Nutsy
by Herr Wozzeck
Summary: A clan. A network of fighters. A group of friends. But most of all, a family unit, where everybody involved feels the essense of a truly wonderful life. A look into the lives of the members of Clan Nutsy.
1. Reminiscense

All right, let's get started here.

So, what've we got with this? Well, basically, this is going to be a collection of oneshots, all of them related to each other, though not necessarily in chronological order. What else are we asking for here? A bit of focus away from Marche, Montblanc, and the rest of the gang. I'm talking about, 'let's see how the rest of the clan interacts'.

So yeah. This is my attempt to answer some questions from the past that I've always had about this wonderful, wonderful game. Here they are, in order:

1) How is it that so many people join the clans after each mission?  
2) Are there homosexuals in the clan?  
3) Are there female/male versions of the races in which the other gender is never shown/the members are mostly androgynous?  
4) How exactly would assigning someone to do a dispatch mission go, anyway?  
5) How do the clan members interact with each other between clan engagements and missions.  
6) What exactly goes on in the Sprohm Prison?  
7) Can we give all 22 of the extra clan members personalities and backstories of their own?  
8) How come people still join the clan when they've got a bounty on their heads?  
9) What exactly happens to the clan when Marche returns to the real world?

So yeah, these are the questions I dare to ask myself. And this is how I seek to find those answers; using the imagination. Basically, this oneshot collection is going to be in a bunch of prompts centered around one theme, all of the prompts being in one word. The first few oneshots are all going to be part of the subset 'Origins', which is pretty much everybody getting recruited into the clan. 'Plotlines' deals with how each clansmember deals with various aspects of FFTA's story, from encountering the Totemas via the interactions with Ritz and Shara and Mewt to how they deal with their leader having a bounty on his head. 'Interactions' deals with the friendly relationships between each of the characters with each other. 'Lovers' takes the stuff found in 'Interactions', instead preferring to play around with the romantic relationships that occur throughout. There's also 'Life and Death' which deals with some of the great scares and shocks of the clan's history that are all personal. And finally, 'After Marche' deals with what happens to each of the characters after Marche leaves Nutsy.

Now, with that said, let's get the disclaimer out, shall we?

Final Fantasy Tactics Advance, and all things associated with it, are not property of yours truly. The game, the jobs, the races, and the continent all belong to the guys at Square Enix. However, each clansmember is a character thought up by me, so they may own the jobs but they don't own the characters. (Well, except for Marche, Montblanc, and any other actual FFTA characters I decide to include in his collection of stories. They own them.)

And, of course, warnings. There will be a little shounen-ai/yaoi (especially in the 'Lovers' part where some of the pairings are yaoi). There will also be some ideologically sentitive material at some points pertaining to abusive childhoods, racism, homophobia, and possibly bestialty (if you consider hume/bangaa love to be bestialty, that is...). DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU WHEN YOU READ THIS COLLECTION! To help you out, I'll be nice and point out the times when these appear, but just remember you've been warned!

Also of note is that I'll be changing a few things in terms of character appearance, since everybody looks about the same in FFTA if you put them all in the same job type. (Stupid game limitations and their not allowing slight differences in character models apart from enemy/ally differences...) So now, the humans have some variation of hair color, the banaas have some variation of scale color, the moogles are now much different, and you know the rest I trust. Also, the starting clan is different, having Montblanc, a moogle thief, a nu mou beastmaster, a bangaa white monk, a hume black mage, and a viera white mage.

Now with that said, let's get this show on the road, shall we?

* * *

**Nutsy: A Clan Drama in Six Parts**

Part I: Origins

Reminiscence

I remember the beginning of the clan clear as day now.

When I first joined Nutsy, I can safely say I never saw some things coming. I was young and foolish then, but having the knowledge I do now I wonder how I missed being able to predict this.

It all started when I met Montblanc and his friend Salsber. Both of them were moogles; the one being overly cheerful and the other being quite serious about the topic at hand. They were both asking me if I wanted to join a clan. I was just beginning to crack open the art of controlling beasts back then, so being eager as I was, I said yes.

For quite some time, it was just us. Montblanc was the black mage who was aspiring to lead the greatest clan in Ivalice, and Salsber was a thief with aspirations of becoming a great gadgeteer. They both made sure that I knew who they were on a friendly basis quite early. Thinking back, I think that their friendliness was what kept me coming back to the rather small clan every day; the pay was small, it was a nu mou and two moogles for quite some time, we were never able to do any of the dispatch missions, and the clans that regularly engaged in clan engagements ignored us for being too small a group to fight. I was actually quite frustrated, being the youth I was, and I was thinking of leaving the clan.

Their friendliness was too much, Montblanc and Salsber. They kept me coming back, mainly because I was afraid of losing the only friends I had gotten then. I had lost my family to a house fire years before I met Montblanc and Salsber and I had lost all contact with my fellow classmates at the Cadoan Academy of Arts and Magic by that point, so I felt obligated to the two moogles like a dog feels obligated to his owner. And honestly, they made me feel right at home with each lost job that we could not take part in, so I felt bad trying to be my cheerful self back then while hiding my inner anguish. Still, I held on to the hope that times would get better, partly for myself and mostly for Montblanc and Salsber.

That hope turned out to be anything but a false hope. For then, we so happened upon a rather helpless banga getting beat up by a bunch of other, bigger members of his race in Sprohm's busy marketplace. Montblanc and I were both there at the time, and we both knew that it was unfair that the townspeople were making a circle for the fight but not doing anything about it and how the nearest clans were not rushing in to help. It was then that Montblanc suggested that the two of us step in. I remember I mentioned it was foolish and that we could not forget about Salsber, but he said that it was unfair that nobody was stepping in to help the bangaa and how Salsber was good at keeping watch over himself.

I remember just about everything about that first exhilarating fight. I remember the blood glistening on of the poor bangaa's crimson scales as I went in with my instrument raised, ready to fight. I remember the rush of energy that came upon me as sword after sword rushed at me and I blocked as quickly as I could with my instruments. I remember how frequently Montblanc would fire his then-novice fire spells at the opponents that were rushing straight towards him, somehow managing to stall them long enough for me or the stranger we were helping to go in there and fight to hit them over the head with our weapons. I remember when Salsber finally arrived, how his knife twirled in his hand as he swiped small amounts of gil from the opponents. But most of all, I remember the great feeling of victory that came when we finally defeated the people that had been harassing the poor bangaa and the cheer from the townspeople.

We had helped the bangaa back to our room at the inn to patch him up. There, we learned his name was Ingg and that he was an aspiring templar. He offered to join our clan from there, and then we shook hands and called it a day.

I say that the hope I held on to was not a false hope because afterwards, the name of Clan Nutsy went around Sphrom and Cyril like wildfire. Maybe two days after Ingg joined our clan, we got an offer from an aspiring human black mage by the name of Orsiny who said that he wanted to join our clan. The day afterwards, we were visited by a young viera white mage who introduced herself as Lutia and said she had heard our name and was wondering if we had any slots open. Those two joined our clan quite quickly, and then all of a sudden people started noticing us. And after our first few clan engagements, I suddenly realized that the hope I had held on to had been fulfilled and that maybe I would become the greatly sagacitous person that my family had always imagined I would be.

And then, soon after we had gotten six clan members, we acquired Marche. And from there... well, we were set to acquire the reputation this clan has now as one of the most renowned clans in all of Ivalice.


	2. Stranger

Okay, so only one review, but a few fav's. I'd really appreciate it if those people that put it on their alert lists would review when they get the chance; as an author, one of the best things I can ask for is to get lots and lots of great feedback from all of you.

Last story? That's one of the few in first person. Most of them are going to be in third person, with maybe a small percentage being in first person. So who was the narrator of the last chapter? You'll find out shortly.

So, after that, we move on to the next part of Origins. This time, enter Marche!

* * *

Stranger

The air of the pub stank of alcohol, undoubtedly from the stink of people that had taken in way too much to drink.

Juris had never liked this scent at all, but he had learned to live with it as he had become familiar with the way the clans worked. The scent had actually become something welcoming to him, as he knew that if he was ever in this pub, he was usually with the clan.

And he was definitely with the clan right then, the nu mou was seated in a small circular table, hand holding on to his green cap as he looked at the rest of his clan. Salsber had just climbed on top of the pointed straw hat that belonged to Orsiny, the black mage looking up and gasping as some strands of long chocolate hair were visible for nary a second before he pulled the hat onto his person, the edges of his hat hiding all traces of hair that anyone had seen. The white moogle laughed, falling onto the table in front of him. Lutia simply shook her head with a royal air about her as Ingg laughed at this, his hand clenched around the handle of the beerstein that he drank from at various intervals.

"Salsber, how many times do I have to tell you that I hate it when you do that before the damn words sink in?" moaned Orsiny, leaning forward so that his chin finally rested on the table.

The little moogle simply laughed before standing on the table, his rather short stature making him short when compared to the seated bodies of the others around the table. His slightly brown fur stood on end, a merry smile on his face that made Juris want to do the same.

"Oh, lighten up, kupo!" replied the little prankster. "You're never gonna get through life like that!"

"I imagine that is what you would say once your pranks become more elaborate?" asked Lutia, clasping her hands together with her elbows resting on the table. Her rather dull grey eyes were directed at the moogle, only the slightest bit of apathy being visible.

"Lutia, by that time I am sure Salsber will have become the gadgeteer he always talks about being," said Juris with a nod, gesturing with the hand that he was holding his cap in. "So by the time his pranks can become more elaborate, he will have somewhere else to vent his creativity."

"I doubt it," said Orsiny, the hat still clenched tightly in his hands as he he shuddered. Ingg looked at this curiously, yellow eyes gleaming mischievously that the black mage could have sworn had been inherited from Salsber.

"What, are you afraid of the light or sssomething?" asked the bangaa with a shrug. "I know you dissslike ssshowing your fassse around here and everything, but--"

The aspiring illusionist ultimately sat back up, letting go of his hat and letting the sides of the item of clothing perk back up to their regular positions. "Oh, trust me, Ingg, this thing's coming off no matter what happens," he began. "You forget I need to dabble in healing magic a bit before I become an Illusionist."

"I am confused, though," said Lutia, running a hand through her white hair before frowning slightly, her hand slowing to a stop by one of her elongated ears. "You said you went to the magic academy at Cadoan."

"That's right," replied Orsiny.

"Then why didn't they teach you how to heal, kupo?" asked Salsber, walking up to the human so that he was leaning back in his chair.

"It's a... touchy... subject," replied the mage, lightly pushing the little thief away from him so that he was standing close to where Ingg was sitting at the table. "I'd rather not talk about it. For now let's just say that I left the academy early..."

"You left the academy early?" asked Juris, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Hm. And did you only learn black magic before you left?"

"Yep," said the mage.

Lutia shifted in her seat, brown fur gleaming with a strange kind of reserved sexiness as she did. "Well, I am not sure how the academy works, but if you only learn black magic before leaving there is very little chance of becoming an illusionist."

"Lutia!" retorted Ingg, slamming his beerstein down on the table with a decisive bang such that she turned to face the lizardman. "What do you think your doing, dessstroying hisss dreamsss like that?"

"I am not destroying his dreams, Ingg, and if you would kindly let me continue you would see why." replied the viera cooly. When the white monk released his hold on the beerstein and nodded slowly she turned to face Orsiny. "I hear the life of a blue mage is not so bad..."

"Yeah, I've heard about that," replied Orsiny, scratching the back of his head. "But I don't know if I'm ready to be hit by every single spell that monsters throw at me..."

At this, the little ball that was connected to Salsber's head rose slightly, giving the impression of surprise. "Oh, you'll get over it, kupo!" exclaimed the moogle. "I know you will!"

"I hope so..." said the black mage with a shrug "It's just..."

"I would not worry about the details," said Lutia with a shrug. "After all, blue mages learn everything easily. And that makes me think that it would be a great class for you if you do take magic seriously like I do."

"I never said I was taking it lightly," replied Orsiny, his eyes that gleamed yellow from beneath the hat looking straight into Lutia's cloudy eyes. "I'm just concerned that getting hit with everything..."

"And do not forget you learn healing spells as well," replied the female decisively.

"Yeah, but when's any monster going to want to do that?" asked the black mage.

"When Jurisss takesss control of it, of courssse," said Ingg, indicating the nu mou with a thumb as he took another swig from the beerstein.

Juris looked towards the door of the inn for the third time then, and when he saw no signs of Montblanc he shook his head. "Where is Montblanc?" asked the beastmaster, adjusting the coat that he wore. "He should have been back by now.

"You think we ssshould go sssee what the hold-up isss?" suggested Ingg with a shrug.

As soon as he said this, though, the nu mou was able to see the door of the pub open, and then in came a moogle with the unmistakeable green shirt that Montblanc wore with a blonde human boy following closely behind.

"That will not be necessary, Ingg," said Juris, standing up as he placed his hat back on his head.

"Ah, there he is!" said Orsiny, rising from the table as Salsber jumped of it.

Everybody else rose as quickly as they could and moved to a table-less part of the pub where they could talk a little more.

As the head of the clan approached, Lutia nodded politely. "Welcome back, Montblanc," she added.

"We were worried about you, kupo!" said Salsber, pulling on his green bandana as he spoke. "You're later than usual, kupo!"

"Sorry, sorry," said Montblanc, holding his hand up in apology. "I was held up by helping this young man here."

The rest of the clan looked over to the blonde human that was by Montblanc's side, looking at his rather simple clothing and his sword that he held to the side listlessly.

"And who might you be?" asked the beastmaster.

"Oh, me?" asked the blonde human. "I'm Marche."

"Marche, huh?" asked Orsiny, a hand moving over to his hat to tip it a little to the side. "What brings you here?"

"Well, Montblanc here got me out of a sticky situation," replied the boy as he indicated Montblanc again. "Teaches me not to call a bangaa a lizard ever again..."

"You did _what_?" cried a shocked Ingg, eyes widening at what Marche had said.

"I had never seen a bangaa before!" protested Marche, his sapphire orbs lighting up in protest. "It's not my fault."

"You had never seen a bangaa before?" asked Juris, glancing at the human with a confused expression on his face. "How sheltered was your life before you came to Sphrom?"

Marche looked at Juris with an equally confused look on his face. "W-what?" he asked.

"Well, it's not that big a deal, kupo!" piped up Salsber as he stood at attention. "You've learned what not to do around a bangaa, and that's all that matters, kupo. I'm Salsber, and this is Orsiny, Lutia, Juris, and Ingg."

"So you're the people in this clan, then," said Marche with a polite nod tacked on to this. "Nice to meet you all! What's the clan's name?"

"Actually, kupo, we haven't come up with one," said Montblanc suddenly, eliciting some rather distasteful stares from Lutia and Ingg. "But since you're here, maybe you could come up with a name for us?"

Marche nodded and thought about it, placing his hand so that it rubbed his chin. "Hm..." he said, looking at all of the people around him. "How about... Nutsy?"

"Nutsy?" asked Lutia, looking around and nodding. "That does not sound too bad..."

"Yeah, I think it's good," added Orsiny with a nod.

"Okay then, it's settled, kupo!" said Montblanc. "We're now officially known as Clan Nutsy!"

"Great, kupo!" said Salsber. "Now, when're we gonna get going to Cyril, huh, kupo?"

"We're moving right now, kupo," replied the moogle with a wink. "Now let's go!"

And the newly named Clan Nutsy stepped out of the inn in Sphrom, conversing as they went and left the city, having a new member of their clan and a new name to be recognized as. And as they stepped out of the dank pub air, Juris felt an awakening approaching from the distance, almost as if an angel had rocketed down and smiled good fortune to the clan.


	3. Captured

Herro, everyone, and welcome back!

And the Lord said, "Let's jump across the timeline!!!" And that's exactly what we're going to do. Even though we are going in chronological order, in each part of Nutsy we jump straight to what is relevant for each part (thus, in Origins, we cut the crap and watch people get recruited into the clan; people worrying about plot developments is what Plotlines is for). Thus, don't be surprised when characters suddenly class change for no apparent reason; I guarantee that if a change happens at any time that is never addressed during one part of the collection it will be addressed at a later date.

Now with that said, let's do the timewarp to end up at the next person to be recruited. And that so happens to be during the Thesis Hunt mission. And here's where I start to ask the questions so you can get the context of how I thought of each one-shot.

Which leads me to the question of the day; how do clan members join you after you hunt down a guy intent on stealing someone's thesis? I think I know how, but of course, since everything's subject to interpretation it may not exactly be the solution you thought of. Let's find out what we both think on this, shall we?

Oh, and before we go on, a little on the weeks and months in Ivalice. We all know how Bardmoon, Sagemoon, Kingmoon, and all that other stuff works, right? But they had twenty-day months! So, what I've devised as the Ivalice calendar is this:

-There are five days in a week in Ivalice as opposed to 7 here.  
-In addition, the five days of the Ivalice week are named after the German names for the days of the real world's week (minus Friday and Saturday, of course). The names in German (in order of Sunday-Thursday) are: Sonntag, Montag, Dienstag, Mittwoch, and Donnerstag.

So there's what I've got on Ivalice's callendar. Unless I have it totally off since I never had a PS1, PS2, or PSP to play most of the rest of the Ivalice games (except for maybe FFXII Revenant Wings, but I've yet to see a mention to Ivalice's calendar in that and I don't consider A2 to be part of the continuum since it destroyed everything about the law system that made it so awesomel intuitive in FFTA). In which case, sue me.

And why do I say this? There's a mention of a weekday below, so I thought I'd give you a bit of background.

* * *

Captured

It should not have been so easy to be captured by a thief. Somewhat mercifully, it had been a human thief; he never would hear the end of people's tormenting if it had been a moogle thief. But the fact remained that he had been captured quite abruptly, and for an alltogether stupid reason as well.

Hopper shuddered in his rope bindings as the human thief led him by a rope. The bound person was a rather astute bangaa individual with bright orange scales that gleamed off of the sunlight of a typical Mittwoch morning on the lower parts of Lutia Pass. The fledging warrior was not happy about having been captured without his sword by his side; he was sure that he would be recieving a lot of intimidation from the others at Sprohm when he returned.

It was not like Hopper was recieving enough intimidation anyway; he found himself the center of various mockings at the largely bangaa population of his hometown for his tastes on certain subjects. The orange bangaa was not into beer like most other self-righteous bangaa were, and he was more the type that ate salads than meat. (It did pay off, though; he was possibly one of Sprohm's strongest men, but whether he actually used it or not was known only to the people in the jail town.) With this new development, however, the warrior could safely say that he was in a tight spot if he ever got out of this kidnapping alive.

That was of no concern to the bangaa in the situation he was in, though, as he was still being led by the human thief who had captured him three nights ago at Sprohm. The gag in his mouth was never a good sign of anything, for he could not even start a conversation to get his mind off of the thoughts of his hometown ostracizing him or the fact that he could be killed if the circumstances were wrong.

As they trudged through the base of the mountains of Lutia Pass, however, he suddenly noticed a nu mou standing in a clearing, almost as if he was waiting for someone. Hopper briefly heard the thief mutter something to himself before feeling the tug of the rope as he came out into a lightly forested area, the trees and the sun playing games of light and shadow, oblivious to the poor bangaa's plight.

It was then that Hopper realized that this was the leader of the operation that had drawn him into being kidnapped.

"Well, here it is," said the thief, handing a bunch of papers to the nu mou in front of them. "I got the thesis, now hand over the money!"

"You have it, huh?" asked the nu mou, eyeing the bound bangaa next to the thief. "And who's that fellow?"

"Oh, him?" asked the thief with a scoff and a shrug. "Nobody. He was a sellsword hired to guard the thesis. I took him out quite easily with sleeping gas. You never know what wonders the black market can work up these days."

"Can you?" inquired the nu mou, examining the papers.

"Yep," said the thief.

However, no sooner had he said this than the nu mou frowned after looking just at the first page of the thesis the thief had hunted down. He quickly thumbed through the rest of the pages before shaking his head in frustration.

"This is the wrong thesis!" cried the nu mou with such force that Hopper was quite shocked at this. "I wanted Diaglev's thesis, not Coleman's!"

The thief simply shrugged and winked at the crime master. "Well, ya said you wanted a thesis, and I got you a thesis," he said. "So pay up!"

"Not until you get the right thesis!" replied the nu mou. "And find some way to get rid of that bangaa that you captured so he never says a word of this to anyone!"

"I'm not leaving until I get a payment," replied the human with a wink. "And I was gonna kill him anyway, but since you mentioned it I think I'll get to that sooner."

A hint of shock and fright passed through Hopper's cerulean eyes as he realized what this could mean for him. Before he had time to dwell on it, however, the nu mou simply huffed in frustration.

"Fine, you win," said the white mage, taking out a purse filled with what Hopper figured would be gil coins and dropping it in the hands of the waiting thief. "Now get rid of him and get out of here before--!"

"Hey, you! Give back that thesis!"

Both the human and the nu mou turned their heads to the shouting of what seemed like a human boy. They both wore shocked expressions on their faces as they noticed a blonde human boy with a rather small clan situated behind him.

"Oh dear," said the nu mou with a sigh, whipping out a staff as the thief snapped his fingers. "Looks like we are going to have to fight."

Hopper did not notice where some of the other people were hidden until they came out, but when two soldiers and another thief appeared from out of the thicker forest surrounding the part of Lutia Pass they were in. He also did not seem to care when the thief tied the bangaa to a tree branch to keep him put for the battle. All the warrior cared about was that he was going to be able to survive the ordeal to tell about it. This was enough to cloud Hopper's eyes with a sense of relief, and he would have sighed in such a gesture if not for the fact that the gag was in place.

He watched the fight from a rather long distance away, how the two soldiers that were in the party went down almost unceremoniously. The group that was fighting the thesis thieves consisted of the blonde boy, another bangaa who Hopper noticed waved his hands around as he fought, and four others who he could not quite make out from his position. The nu mou, who turned out to be a white mage, was doing his best to heal the two thieves who were still standing around trying to fend off the attacks of the opposing clan. The fight went by like a blur to the bound bangaa, and it was not made easier by the fact that his view was obscured by the tree that he had been tied to. For a brief second, he thought he saw a viera that was in the other clan who seemed to notice Hopper's presence. However, he was ignored, and as soon as his eyes were focused back on the action he found that th nu mou that had originally kidnapped him had been taken down by a sword swipe from the blonde boy that led the fearless clan. Hopper noticed just then that the two human thieves had somehow been taken down rather quickly without his noticing it. It was then that he let out an even more relieved breath through his gag, eyes looking to the clan that had saved him.

And sure enough, the viera that he had sworn he had seen earlier appeared, accompanied by the bangaa that Hopper had seen earlier and a moogle thief that was riding on the viera's back.

"Ah, you were real indeed," said the viera as the moogle thief jumped down from her shoulder.

The little thief flew over to Hopper with his small wings landing on the bangaa's shoulders before taking a knife out from wherever he assumed thieves kept their knives. "Don't you worry, kupo!" said the little moogle. "I'll get you out of here in a jiffy!"

The warrior first heard a flash of wind right by his ear before he felt the gag get cut away from his face. Soon after, another swip of the knife cutting through rope was heard, and then Hopper's arms were freed. Relieved, the former captive raised his arms and shook them around a little.

"Thank you very much, sssirsss..." said Hopper gratefully. "They were gonna kill me..."

"No problem," said the viera with a polite bow of her head.

The other bangaa, however, seemed to recognize Hopper. "Hey, aren't you...?"

Hopper's blue eyes took a moment to scan over he other bangaa's crimson scales. As he looked at them, he realized that he knew the exact shade of crimson that was on the scales.

"Ingg...?" asked the warrior. "What are you doing here?"

"I wasss going to asssk you that, too!" replied the surprised white monk.

"Do you two know each other, kupo?" asked the little moogle thief as he pointed between Ingg and Hopper.

"Yeah, and I can't sssay it'sss not good to sssee him..." said Hopper as he rubbed the back of his head.

"Ssso you got caught defending Coleman'sss thesssisss?" asked Ingg with an inquisitive gesture.

Hopper's eyes widened as he realized that his old friend had guessed something correctly. "How did you guesss?"

"Well, when you ask it like that, there is only one possible way that you would be bound and gagged to a tree," said the viera listlessly.

"Lutia!" hissed Ingg annoyedly. "He didn't asssk you!"

"In that case, I apologize for pointing out the obvious," she said.

For this comment, Hopper shot a glare at the viera before turning his attention back to Ingg. "And I got taken by a human thief, too. I can't go back to Sssprohm like thisss!"

"Aw, why not, kupo?" asked the little moogle thief. "It's not that bad if you get kupopo'd by a human, kupo!"

"Well, in hisss cassse, he never fit in with anybody elssse in Sssprohm..." replied Ingg. "He isss not really into many thingsss that a bangaa isss into. Like sssaladsss,

At this, the warrior chuckled, a small smile forming across his face. "It'sss been yearsss sssinssse we lassst sssaw each other, and you ssstill know ssstuff!" he said jovially. "Sssome thingsss never change..."

"I wouldn't be ssso sssure of that," replied Ingg, indicating the bulging muscles that howed through Hopper's clothing. "Thossse sssaladsss really paid off! Look at you!"

"Yesss, I feel quite good about thisss," replied Hopper, briefly flexing an arm to show the bulging muscle that glistened in the Mittwoch sun before straightening back out. "You ssstill haven't anssswered my quessstion."

The little moogle thief jumped onto Ingg's shoulder before the monk could reply. "Well, kupo, he's part of Clan Nutsy now!" he exclaimed. "And we could always use an extra person, kupo!"

"A clan?" asked the warrior, one of his eyelids raising a little in curiosity as he asked the question. "Why thisss?"

With this question, Ingg's cheery demeanor talking to an old friend sort of fell for a second as his face became rather serious, the little golden eyes hardening ever so slightly.

"Well, becaussse they sssaved my honor," replied Ingg. "And we sssaved your life, too. If nothing elssse, think of thisss asss repayment."

The bangaa looked up to the sky, pondering Ingg's point briefly. The clan did save his life when it counted and Ingg being in there was an added plus. The bangaa found himself finding almost no reason not to join Clan Nutsy except for fear of anybody else seeing something odd in him. As he thought of this, he shrugged and looked at Ingg.

"Well, okay," he said simply. "I jussst hope people don't find me ssstrange..."

"Oh, you will be just fine!" replied the viera with a soft, sultry little laugh. "I am Lutia, by the way."

"And I'm Salsber, kupo!" added the moogle as he jumped onto Hopper's head.

Ingg laughed heartily at the look of dismay on the warrior's face as the thief grabbed onto the bangaa's head, patting him in the back with a rather large smile on his face.

"Come on," said Ingg. "I'll introdussse you to the othersss!"

And then Ingg led Hopper over to the rest of the clan by Hopper's back. As Hopper was led to the rest of the clan, he wondered how his week had gone from defending a thesis to being kidnapped and then joining a clan that his childhood friend so happened to be a part of.


	4. Herbs

All righty, then, we're back for the next part of Origins!

So yeah, we've been introduced to Hopper now, the oddball and stuff. He eats salads, doesn't drink beer... and there's something else. I won't tell you what that something is, but as a hint, keep some of the warnings I mentioned at the beginning in mind.

And now we jump around the timeline a little again, this time jumping to yet another strange recruitment thing. What happens when people go searching around for stuff? And what if when they get caught up in stuff? Well, you get something like this during the first Wanted! mission you can do.

* * *

Herbs

"Hm... Where did it go? Ah, here it is! Always in all the trusty spots!"

A rather small hand reached into the dirt, and slowly the sound of a root being ripped from the soil was heard. The brown fur of the hand rose to check on the root that had been pulled out of the earth before the plant was laid down gently into a basket.

"There we go," said a viera as she stood up, breathing in the Nubswood air. "Now the ingredients for the potion are ready! I better head back to Cyril, and quickly!"

It was a rather placid Sonntag afternoon for Cecille; the viera had been searching Nubswood for ingredients for a potion that would save her ailing mother's life. Despite how beautiful the forest was at this, the woman had not wasted a second, getting down to the goods as quickly as she could. With a bow strapped to her back, she adjusted the basket that rested in the crook of her elbow and tipped her hat. A smile was on her face as she quickly moved out of the Nubswood as quickly as she could.

Moving through the forest, the woman thought of how her life had been. She had been set to go on to be a great archer; however, her mother who lived in Cyril had suddenly fallen ill with a quite deadly disease. When they called the doctor over to Cyril, he had claimed that her mother had only a few months to live. He also said that there were a special set of herbs that could be found in Nubswood that could be brewed into a life-saving potion. After trying for months to get somebody to help her find the herbs needed, she realized she had to set into Nubswood all on her own. She had a strong determination to save her mother, and that prompted her to move as quickly as possible once she made the two day trek from Cyril to Nubswood. On Cecille's end, she knew that after she had brewed the potion for her mother her life could get back on track and she could join a clan.

As the archer moved along, she slowly acquired the strange feeling that somewhere within the trees, somebody was watching her. Her keen ears were able to pick up a scampering of footsteps around her, and so her unoccupied hand came to a place where she could grab a bow quickly in case she was attacked. As a close range fighter she was no good, but if she saw the enemy first then she could maintain the upper hand until another clan came along. At least, that was how Cecille saw it.

She was given her signal to attack when she heard the sound of wind coming from behind her. She quickly jumped out of the way to dodge a wisp of flame that came flying at her, the herbs in her basket having stayed in the basket from her dodge. Thinking quickly, she quickly drew an arrow from the quiver that was around her waist, grabbed her bow, and in as fluid a motion as she could she strung the bow on the string and fired into the direction she felt the eyes staring from.

A yelp of pain confirmed her fears, and shortly after hearing it Cecille took off into the woods. She vaguely heard the person's call for help, but she dared not say anything as she ran, keeping the herbs in the basket with her bow as she moved quickly. She knew that she was definitely in danger, and the viera knew that she had to find somebody to help her as soon as she could.

As she was running, however, she came across a brook in a small clearing in the wood, and no sooner had she done this than she felt herelf bump right into a person that she had neglected to notice in her attention all being focused on what was behind her. When she felt the bump, she fell to the ground, landing in a sitting position with the herbs in her basket falling around her. Cecille let out a gasp before noticing the human black mage that stood right in front of her.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" said the viera, instantly standing up and bowing several times over and over again in front of the human. "I was being chased by someone, and I... Oh, I'm so terribly sorry!"

"Whoah, calm down!" replied the human black mage as he held his hands in front of him defensively. "I..."

From behind him, a viera white mage walked into view, looking over Cecille quickly. The slightly frightened archer also noticed a nu mou beastmaster in the group with a moogle thief riding on his head. "Good to see she has manners," said the other viera acerbically.

"Hey!" shouted the archer, grabbing her bow and pulling the string taught. "That wasn't very nice!"

"Please, Lutia, I do not suggest saying anything snarky to this woman here," said the nu mou gracefully. "It seems that she just found her way out of a 'tough situation', if you will."

Before anybody could say anything more, however, a rustle of the brush behind Cecille was heard. All heads turned as a rather fat moogle black mage came out of the brush, staring at the archer and the sudden company she found.

"I... I..." stuttered the rotund moogle, not able to say a word.

Cecille's eyebrows arched at this sight, and all of a sudden a rare wave of disdain collided with her. "And do tell me; why were you sending fire spells at me back there?" asked the viera archer.

"I paid for the food, kupo!" piped the moogle black mage all of a sudden, surprising Cecille. "I swear!"

"Hm, for some reason I don't believe you," said Orsiny. "I don't trust you types, so why don't you come with us?"

"I paid, kupo!" exclaimed the moogle even louder than before. "Just gimme these herbs here and I'll keep on paying!"

A great feeling of fury raced through Cecille's mind, and before she could stop herself she had tackled the moogle to the ground, surprising everybody around her as she growled viciously at the smaller being below her.

"You keep those hands off of the herbs, you hear?" she screamed, her mouth right next to the creature's ear. "My mother's _life_ depends on those herbs, and if you think I'm gonna give them away to some fat thing with wings, you're in for a world of surprise!"

"Whoah, whoah!" shouted the human black mage, quicky coming in between the moogle black mage and the viera archer. "We want this guy _alive_! Don't scare him to death!"

"But... But I don't wanna go to jail, kupo!" added the fat moogle for extra measure.

The viera white mage shook her head condescendingly. "Well, there is really nothing you can do about that, now, is there?" she asked, pulling a rope from somewhere in her clothes. The female walked over to the moogle and bound his hands behind his back, tieing the rope around the moogle's wrists tight so that the moogle could not escape from this hold. "Now come quietly, or the judge will be harsher on you. And you know as well as I do that we do not want that."

With this, the white mage walked off in a random direction. As she saw this, Cecille looked down to the herbs scattered around the ground, and then quickly bent over, grabbing an herb as quickly as she could.

"Would you like some help with this?" The human's question surprised the viera a little bit such that her head abruptly bolted up to see the human kneeling down, the black mage hat obscuring his face. However, Cecille saw a quality of sincerity in the mage's eyes that comforted her if only for a brief second, so she nodded.

"Please," she said as she too knelt, looking around for the herbs. In this time, the nu mou had wandered over to the two people that were kneeling on the ground looking for things, the moogle on his head looking down at the viera stranger.

"Your mother's life depends on those herbs?" asked the nu mou, gazing down on the archer with a solemn look on his face.

"Yes!" replied Cecille as she foraged around for the remaining herbs. "She'll die in a month if I don't get these things to her."

"But isn't Muscadet that far away?" asked the human as he continued dropping herbs in the back.

Cecille shook her head, brushing a strand of white hair out of her face soon afterwards. "We moved to Cyril before she fell ill..."

"Oh," said the black mage as he continued foraging.

"Cyril, kupo?" asked the moogle atop the nu mou's head curiously. "What're you doing there, kupo?"

"In Cyril?" asked the viera as she dropped the last of the scattered herbs in the basket. "I was going to join a clan, of course. But then she came down with her illness..."

"A clan, you say?" asked the nu mou as the black mage stood up and helped Cecille to her feet.

"Yes," she said. "Why? You know a clan?"

"Know a clan?" asked the black mage. "We _are_ a clan!"

"Oh, really?" asked Cecille, her blue eyes lighting up as she looked at the group. "Are you headed to Cyril now?"

"You bet, kupo!" replied the moogle on the nu mou's head. "In fact, we still need a few more people, kupo, so if you want you can join us when we get back!"

"Really? Wonderful!" said the now quite excited viera as she pulled her hands into a small victory pose.

"Yep," said the black mage with a nod as he extended his hand out to the viera. "I'm Orsiny, by the way."

The viera looked at the human's hand with an expression of surprise before taking the human's hand in hers. "Cecille," she said.

"And I'm Salsber, kupo!" piped up the moogle from atop the beastmaster. "And this here's Juris, kupo!"

"A pleasure to meet you, miss Cecille," added Juris with a curteous nod.

The viera was smiling as she bowed her head to the nu mou just as curteously. "All right," she said. "Would you guys mind escorting me back to Cyril?"

"Sure," replied Orsiny with a polite nod.

The group of four had begun to move away from the clearing when Cecille suddenly remembered about the fat moogle she had encountered.

"By the way, who was that moogle?" asked Cecille, indicating a direction in front of them as she spoke.

Salsber simply huffed softly, the sound barely audible to the viera's ears as Orsiny stiffened ever so slightly.

"Oh, him?" asked Orsiny. "He was wanted for stealing food."

Cecille suddenly found herself frowning just a little at this. "And he said he payed for it, yet was perfectly willing to attack me to get some herbs to eat that I was getting for my mother," she said just a little sardonically. "I wonder what else is going to send him to the fourth circle of hell..."

Salsber rolled his eyes at this bit of acerbic wit, Orsiny chuckling as the group moved on in the wood.


	5. Dark

All right, let's get back to business.

So we were introduced to Cecille last chapter, the viera who is quite cheery yet can be quite sardonic when she wants to. Thankfully, she doesn't become anywhere near as bitchy as Lutia eventually does.

And I've got good news for all; this week is finals week here at college, so once that's over I'll have as much time as I pretty much want for myself, so look out for me, because we'll be getting more updates on this soon!

So with that out of the way, let's get some more people into our happy clan. This time, though, we're gonna deviate from the 'fight mission' thing, and instead we're going to take on a dispatch mission recruitment!

Before I mention what and where, though, one of the things that's always irked me about the game is how badly paced the dispatch missions are. I mean, I know you're not supposed to be able to beat every single dispatch mission right off the bat, but seriously, was it necessary to make some dispatch missions accesible from the start yet make it so that you don't get the mission item needed until well after you've killed Mateus?

Which is why I'm going to purposefully play the dispatch missions here out of order. I'm actually going to start in Nutsy with, what else, Hungry Ghost. Also, I'll be working a facet of Shady Deals into it purely for artistic license and to actually give characters motivation. Will it resolve in this oneshot? No. Will it resolve eventually? You bet, but that won't be for a damn while. How will we find the clan? We don't know until we see. So let's get on with this and meet our next character!

* * *

Dark

Three knocks were heard on wood. Then, Marche's voice was heard from the other side.

"Hey, Orsiny. Would you mind if I came in and asked you something for a second?"

The now blue mage had discarded his dreams of becoming an illusionist long ago. Now, as with Lutia's suggestion, he had taken a crash course in Cure that eventually led him to being the clan's resident Blue Mage. Now, instead of the straw hat, a hat with blue plumage that kept his face in plain view was seen, Orsiny's emerald orbs allowed to shine in their full glory in the rather dim lighting of Sprohm's inn. His robes were still blue, but now they were somewhat more regal in nature, a saber tied to the mage's belt.

Right then, Orsiny had been sitting on the desk writing a letter to someone dear to him when he heard the knocking on his door. As soon as he heard Marche's question, Orsiny was standing rather quickly.

"I'll open the door for you," he said, swiping the key from his desk as he moved towards the door. When he got to the door, he unlocked it for the clan's supposed leader and nodded.

"So, what's up?" asked Orsiny.

"Dispatch work," replied the young fighter as he entered Orsiny's room. When the mage had closed the door, Marche looked to him. "So, how would you like to do a dispatch mission?"

One of Orsiny's eyebrows arched up briefly before shrugging.

"What do they want?" he asked, sitting down on the bed as Marche nodded.

"Well, it's some ghosts that need to be exorcised," replied the young leader. "There's a cathedral outside of Cadoan that put up a request in the pub."

"And somehow it made it all the way to Sprohm?" asked Orsiny, twiddling his thumbs a little.

Marche shrugged in response. "I often wonder how that happens," replied the youth. "Anyways, they've got a ghost problem. I was wondering if you wanted in what with your blue magic and all?"

"Well, I don't see why not, but why me?" asked the mage again.

"Well, because Ingg and Lutia are both on missions now," he said with a shrug. "So while you're at it, maybe you could take over for one mission?"

Orsiny thought about this proposal for a brief moment before looking back to Marche, nodding briefly before continuing.

"Exorcising ghosts, you say?" asked the blue mage. "I don't see why not, although I might need some assistance."

"Good," said Marche with a smile. "Then I'll see you off in the morning."

The fighter had turned to leave when he suddenly paused, looking at Orsiny with a sincere expression of concern on his face.

"By the way, I hope you're still not too frazzled by the whole totema thing," replied the human, instantly causing the mage to dart his eyes to either side of him.

Facing Famfrit had not been a pleasant experience for Orsiny at all; for that matter, it was not pleasant for anybody else that was in the attacking party. The poor blue mage had come out of that particular battle greatly confused and wondering what the guardian had been talking about. Marche had explained his situation to the best of his ability to those who had come with him to investigate the Ulei River, but even then Orsiny was still trying to make sense of everything.

"I'm still trying to figure things out," stated the mage flatly, adusting the feather on his hat. "But I'm fine now. Thanks for the concern."

"Nothing to it," replied Marche with a shrug before he left, closing the door behind him.

As soon as the leader left, Orsiny returned to his desk, looking at the paper that he had written the letter on. Picking up his quill from where it rested in the inkwell, he continued writing the letter right from where he left off, the scrit-scrat of quill against paper being the only sound other than the rowdy partying of the people downstairs in the pub.

* * *

Orsiny had set foot by the monastery that was just outside of Cadoan a few days after the encounter in the inn, saber still attached to his belt as he looked at the monastery gates. A thick mist hovered over the air, acting as a kind of curtain against human sight. Orsiny felt it was something straight out of the horror novels that he was quite the fan of, although he could not help but feel disturbed by the prospect of one of those horror tales possibly coming true. He was also slightly unnerved by how alive the trees were; he should not have been the slightest bit uneasy given that it was Bardmoon and that the summer in Ivalice was going full force, but there was something about seeing images of life and death immediately contrasted with each other that sort of gave the blue mage a slight jolt, especially given how creepy the monastery was in the mist.

At the rather ornate monastery gate, a nu mou and a bangaa were both standing outside, inspecting the area of its visitors. The bangaa wore the signature white monk attire, the blue cap standing prominently against his green scales as he conversed with the nu mou. Said nu mou had grey fur on his person, although there was a trace of it whitening with age as Orsiny's green eyes looked them over. After a minute of walking towards the monastery, the blue mage noticed that the bangaa was the first to notice the human, and so he indicated this to his friend.

"Ah, we have a visitor, I see," said the nu mou as Orsiny approached the gate to the monastery, the bangaa adding to this mention with a nod.

"Oh, I'm not really visiting," explained Orsiny as he shrugged. "I'm here about the ghost problem that you've reported?"

The nu mou looked at him strangely before realising what Orsiny meant by this comment.

"Ah, yes!" he exclaimed simply, a finger pointed in the air. "I trust you are Orsiny, then?"

The human replied with a nod. "That's right," he said. "And you are...?"

"Father Baldi of the Church of Ivalice, at your service," replied the nu mou with a respectful bow of his head. "And this is my young pupil, Friar Ocon."

"At your ssservice, Mr. Orsssiny," replied the bangaa with his hands clasped together and a bow of his head. "I ssshall be aiding you during the exorsssisssm."

"Thank you," replied Orsiny with a nod of his head. "I'm afraid I still don't know the exact details, sir. This is a ghost hound?"

The nu mou replied with a simple nod. "It is," he said, simply. "It also happens in the dead of night. I shall have Brother Ocon direct you to the pantry at that time. For now, I shall allow him to give you a tour of the grounds."

"Oh, well, that is quite gracious of you, sir," stated Orsiny with a nervous chuckle. "I hope you don't mind that I'm take it now?"

"Of course not," replied Baldi. "Brother Ocon, the tour, please."

"Sssertainly, Father," replied Ocon with a polite bow before entering the grounds of the church, Orsiny following behind him rather quickly.

As soon as they were a good distance away from the gates, Orsiny turned his head to the bangaa.

"So, what's with the ghost?" asked the blue mage.

"Oh, nothing, Mr. Orsssiny," replied the bangaa. "It might be the sssoul of our dead dog isss all."

"Dead dog?" asked Orsiny, his eyebrow arching up in curiosity. "The church keeps a dog?"

"For guarding purposssesss," replied the monk. "You never know what can happen in Ivalissse, essspecially with the people resssponding to the lawsss the way they do..."

The magic user nodded in response. "I see..."

"And furthermore, they do ssserve as rather dosssile companionsss when they are not being threatened," replied Ocon quite simply.

Orsiny let out a slight grunt in acknowledgement as he nodded. "Wouldn't that be kind of... well, you know... going against the will of God?"

"We keep them out of nesssesssity," stated Ocon. "God is willing to forgive ssso long asss we own thingsss not for greed, but for need. And in the current ssstate of Ivalissse, I believe that a guard dog is nesssesssary."

"Well, okay then," shrugged the blue mage. "So, what's what around here?"

The white monk proceeded to show Orsiny around the rather small monastery, the two of them conversing on quite a few subjects as the rest of the monks of the chapel went about their daily tasks.

* * *

That night, the two of them were hiding in the church's pantry, waiting for the ghost dog to arrive. The lack of windows in the pantry lent itself to a certain element of fright that Orsiny had come to expect from such a place in reading his horror novels. Somehow, Ocon had been scared quite horribly by this, especially since the two of them were hiding in the darkest corner of the room. The moonlight that seeped in from the window was not enough to scare the bangaa out of his fright, although the blue mage was unfased, keeing watch on the pantry and its assortment of barrels and boxes, most likely that had food.

"You scared?" asked Orsiny, trying his best to sound sincere while hugging his legs to him.

"I had a bad ecksssperienssse with the dark when I wasss a boy..." replied Ocon softly, shivering a little as he knelt on the ground, hands splayed on the surface beneath him. "It wasss... terrible, to sssay the leassst..."

"Mm." Orsiny left no discernible features on his face in the darkness. "I should'nt probe, I'm sorry."

"It'sss all right," said Ocon reassuringly. "It helpsss..."

Just then, the two of them heard a slight clacking noise of something raking against a metal object. The human quickly stood up, pulling up his companion with him as he scanned the room.

"I think he isss here..." whispered the bangaa softly, soft sapphire eyes gazing into the room timidly.

"I can tell, thanks," said Orsiny without thinking, emerald eyes darting around. "Where do you think it went?"

As the bangaa shot the human a brief glare and before he could comment, a box was heard falling to the floor. The box and its spilled contents were visible in the moonlight as Ocon and Orsiny both backed into the wall a little. As they saw the contents of the box, they noticed the spectral form of a rather stout greyhound trying to nibble away at the contents of the box, the light glow it gave of being some comfort to the bangaa as his human companion looked at the scene.

"Hm..." he thought, wondering what spells he had learned from a monster that he could use in a situation like the one presented to him.

Ocon simply shook his head, readying his knuckles to strike.

"Aha!" mumbled the blue mage, raising a finger. "Angel Whisper!"

Almost as soon as he said this, a white aura filled the room, making it rather bright for everybody to see in there. This motion startled the dog for a second before Ocon went in, knuckles raised as he took a slash at the creature. Sure enough, the ghost began to fade out of existence with the glow of Orsiny's spell to prove this. Eventually, the light faded, and the two companions looked at each other before they both burst into laughter over this.

"Oh, boy, that was far too sssimple!" cried Ocon during his laugh.

"You're telling me?" asked the human in kind. "Hoo, man!"

Their laughing eventually did die down, however, and there was a more serious look on Ocon's face that was partly obscured by the darkness.

"The Lord worksss in mysssteriousss waysss..." said the monk rather quickly after their laughter died down. "I wonder why he did not jussst forssse usss to ussse forssse like that..."

"Well, he didn't have a mage to distract the dog with, so I guess it works out for the better eventually," was Orsiny's response, and the human added a shrug at the end of the sentence. "Unless you could've come up with a better distraction with limited resources."

"That isss quite true..." replied the monk. "Do you think we ssshould go tell Father Baldi the good newsss?"

One of Orsiny's eyebrows arched up in surprise. "In the dead of night at a monastery? Are you out of your mind?"

"He did sssay to tell him when we had sssolved the ghossst problem," said Ocon.

"Well, okay then..." said the human with a shrug. "I'll trust your word then..."

The monk then walked forward, his human companion following close behind. They climbed the rather short pantry stairs that led to the area next to the confessionals. However, as soon as Ocon reached the door, he suddenly stopped Orsiny, leaning in towards the door.

Confused, the mage tilted his head to the side. "What's going--?"

"Ssshh!" The monk silenced him rather quickly, before gesturing Orsiny towards the door. Now somewhat curious, the human moved towards the door, and sure enough he began to hear voices on the other side.

On the other side, Orsiny was able to make out the sounds of father Baldi conversing with another man. The door in their midst meant that the magic user could not see who the nu mou was conversing with, but from the few snippets of dialogue he was able to make out he heard something that sounded almost unmistakeably like a shady deal to him. Ocon was in a better position to hear, and through the small amounts of light the mage somehow noticed the bangaa's eyes widen in shock at this revelation. Orsiny knew better than to ask in their position, though, so he waited out the storm with Ocon as he heard the voices.

Finally, however, the human heard the voices diminish ever so slowly. After a few seconds, the voices were heard no more, and Orsiny looked to Ocon briefly. After a few more minutes of total silence, the monk finally pushed the door open lightly, taking a peek around to make sure the coast was clear. As soon as he had glanced around, he gestured to his companion, and then the two of them walked out of the pantry, both of them looking at each other with bewildered expressions.

"That was Father Baldi..." said Orsiny, kicking himself mentally for stating the obvious. "But who was that other guy with him?"

"I don't know..." said Ocon hesitantly. "It hasss been sssomething I have been sssussspecting for a while..."

"Huh?" asked the mage, now somewhat confused.

Ocon sighed before looking at the beautiful stained glass of the monastery, the colored glass shimmering in the moonlight. There was a brief silence between the two of them, Orsiny wondering what the bangaa could have been thinking of.

"It wasss sssomething that ssstarted lassst month..." The monk had begun so suddenly that Orsiny flinched at hearing his voice, but once the meaning of the words sank in, he almost automatically relaxed.

"I notisssed that we were getting too many itemsss of little importanssse here..." continued the bangaa after he acknowledged Orsiny's brief paranoia episode. "Ssso one night I went down and hid in the confesssionalsss. And then I heard them talking about going out to the town or sssomething..."

"A secret passage?" asked Orsiny.

"Sssomething of that nature..." confirmed Ocon. "Father Baldi agreed to it and sssaid he would think about where to put it..."

"Well, did you tell anyone?" asked the mage with a shrug as he began pacing around the small monastery. "I mean, something could be done about it when you do?"

"I left a requessst at the pub, yesss," replied the monk with a nod. "But ssso far nobody hasss replied to it..."

Orsiny looked up at the ceiling of the monastery before an idea came to his mind.

"Well, you do understand that things are going to be, well, hard for you now that word's getting out, right?" asked Orsiny.

"I underssstand that..." said Ocon simply. "Do you think Father Baldi will notissse?"

"Most likely," replied the mage with a shrug as he stopped pacing around the monastery. "But here's something we can do."

The human placed a hand on the bangaa's shoulder as the two of them walked out of the monastery.

"Are you sssuggesssting I essscape?" asked Ocon before Orsiny could continue.

"Well, uh, yes," replied the mage, chuckling nervously at this. "But think about it for a second. If you stay, Baldi might get you in trouble and you might be kicked out of the order."

"That isss insssane!" retorted the monk. "If I leave, I will alssso get kicked out of the order!"

"Well, but there's a difference." The human raised a finger in the air as he said this. "If you leave now, you'll be harder to find. While we do that, we can find stuff to present against this man and we'll see what happens there. So if you leave, you actually have a greater chance of getting accepted back. You get my drift?"

"Yesss..." replied a hesitant Ocon, blue eyes looking down to the ground before looking right at his companion. "But what if I lossse track of my ssstudies?"

Orsiny simply shrugged at this. "Who knows?" he asked. "Maybe you'll find something to use your religion for in the real world. I mean, sitting around never did anything to rid the world of suffering or whatever you monks are supposed to try to do, right?"

Ocon nodded, still thinking. As they exited the monastery chapel, he looked to Orsiny, eyes betraying a certain sense of insecurity.

"I jussst have one more quessstion," he said. "What... what will happen if I get caught?"

The mage looked around briefly before facing the bangaa. "I have no idea," he said simply. "But I know that if we don't take a chance, then nothing's gonna happen, right?"

There was a rather lengthy pause as Ocon battled with himself inside of his head. In truth, the bangaa did not know what to make of the proposal Orsiny had set before him. On the one hand, there was staying with the church and being excommunicated over a suspicion. Ocon knew the chances of that happening were relatively low since he knew that such suspensions were not allowed in the church; however, knowing what he had known of Father Baldi right then, he knew that something would happen. He liked the sound of the human's plan, but he was bugged by an incessant longing to understand God. He had tried his hardest, but no matter how hard he studied he did not find himself capable enough of understanding. The monk sighed, wondering whether it would be better to experience the work of God first-hand, or to stay behind and go absolutely nowhere in his quest for understanding the word of his lord. Torn between these two possibilities, he was feeling a strange mixture of guilt and uncertainty when he finally turned to face his human companion again.

"Well, all right..." said Ocon with a shrug. "I ssshall leave, then..."

Orsiny smiled slightly before nodding. "Ah, yes," replied the blue mage. "But we might have to leave at seperate times to avoid arousing suspicion..."

"B-but, Orsssiny, if I leave tonight--" interjected the bangaa before the mage held up a hand.

"Look, somebody's gotta accept payment for the exorcism," said Orsiny. "And since that requires me to talk to the guy, it would be best that you leave before. I'll cover you, don't worry."

"Well, all right..." replied Ocon, now with uncertainty weaving into his voice a little more. There was a slight pause as he pondered what he was going to say next. After said pause, the bangaa continued with, "Ssso, where do I go?"

"I'm part of a clan that's based in Cyril," said Orsiny, pulling out a slip of paper from the breast pocket of his robes and quickly scribbling a note on it with the quill he had stolen from the inn in Cyril. "Once you get there, head to the Three Fishes Inn, and ask to see Clan Nutsy. If you get it right, they should direct you to a blonde kid or a moogle with a green shirt. It all depends on who's run off to go on missions." Here, Orsiny finished the note he was writing and handed it to Ocon quickly, the bangaa quickly looking over the note as the human continued, "Give them this note, and stay with them until I get there. I'll leave it up to you as to who does the explaining."

The bangaa looked at the note, his eyes betraying a great sense of turmoil within. He was still uncertain, and the bangaa felt that once he took the note there was no turning back; he could take nothing with him but the clothes on his back, the note, and his knuckles with him. He was also certain that if he took the note, that would be the end of his faith as he would not be able to constantly be around the sacred scriptures to study it. As he thought of all this, he thought about how he hated decisions that you could not return from.

Finally, after a lengthy amount of time of thinking, the monk reached out, grasped the note from Orsiny, and looked at the mage, almost as if asking for extra confirmation that he was doing the right thing.

Orsiny simply nodded, gesturing towards the gate that had been left open for a reason that neither of them could fully comprehend. "May the grace of your God be with you."

Hesitantly, the bangaa moved towards the gate, taking a brief pause to look back as he approached the gates. Spurred on by a nod from Orsiny, Ocon finally dissapeared into the night, Orsiny eyeing the monk's form as it dissapeared into the forest surrounding the monastery, the darkness eventually obscuring him from view.

* * *

The next morning, Orsiny and Father Baldi were walking together towards the gates of the monastery, the nu mou a little concerned about something. The sun had been bearing down on them in the middle of the summer, and by this time the mist had dissipated completely. Now, the grounds were quite empty of activity as Orsiny chose to leave on his own.

"And you swear that it was the last you saw of him?" asked the priest as they walked.

"Yeah," was the mage's reply with a shrug. "I don't know how he dissapeared. I didn't even find a note when I went to check on him."

"I see..." said Father Baldi with a sigh. "I hope Brother Ocon is all right. Do you think I should send a search party out for him?"

Orsiny grimaced lightly as Baldi suggested this. "I don't think it's necessary, thanks," replied the mage. "I don't think we want to make a huge scandal out of this, you know?"

"That is true." The aging nu mou said this with a nod. "So I trust your clan can find him and report to me?"

"Of course," said the blue mage, brushing a lock of brown hair out of his eyes. "I'll see what happens with that."

"Thank you for your concern," replied Father Baldi with a polite nod. "I shall see you again when you find Brother Ocon?"

"You shall," said Orsiny with a nod. "Farewell, Father Baldi."

"Farewell, young one," replied the nu mou as Orsiny began to walk down the pathway away from the monastery.

As he moved, the mage wondered if Ocon had made it safely to Cyril. He knew the chances that Ocon was already heading to Cyril were pretty high since it only involved a short trip through Nubswood to get there, but he was prepared to do a little extra manhunting if it was not the case. However, he had a strong feeling that the bangaa had made it there, and so the mage continued on.

* * *

As soon as Orsiny had arrived back in Cyril, the first thing he did was that he ran straight to the Three Fishes Inn and up the stairs as quickly as he could. As soon as he approached what would be Marche's room, he knocked quickly, hoping to whatever Gods Ocon worshipped that somebody would answer. When Montblanc answered the door, the moogle looked up at the mage.

"Hey, you're back, kupo!" began the moogle as soon as he opened the door. "There was an Ocon that came by the other day and he gave me this note kupopo'd by you."

So he had made it after all. Orsiny sighed in relief before nodding. "Yeah, he was from the monastery. Did he say anything, or...?"

"Not a word, kupo," replied the moogle with a shrug. "You want to talk to him, kupo?"

"Of course!" exclaimed the human.

Montblanc then opened the door wider, and sure enough Ocon was sitting on the bed looking out the window as the mage entered. Orsiny acknowledged the bangaa as he entered the room, Ocon's head quickly turning to see the human mage there.

"So you made it over here safely?" asked the human.

"Yesss..." said the bonga insecurely. "There'sss no turning back now, isss there?"

Orsiny's eyes darted towards the ground before he shook his head. "Nope," he said simply. "Now we've gotta make do with where we are..."

Ocon looked at the wall briefly before sighing. "I feel worssse about myssself than I ever have..."

The human scoffed at this. "Trust me, I've made a much bigger mistake than this," he continued. "Especially where my magic is concerned..."

"Then I jussst have to go with it?" asked the bangaa softly.

"Well, you never know what'll happen, right?" asked Orsiny. "Who knows? Maybe you'll eventually come to like this."

"I don't know..." replied Ocon. "For the firssst time in my life, I don't know what I'm doing..."

To this, the mage simply patted his companion on the back. "You'll figure it out eventually," he said. "If you ever need anything, you can always come to me, understand?"

"Of courssse," replied Ocon.

For quite some time afterwards, the two of them sat there, looking out of the window, wondering what would come in the days following their meeting. The green bangaa had to admit that he was still quite scared of what could happen next, but he resolved to be prepared for whatever came his way as he sat with Orsiny for the remainder of the day.


	6. Theft

And, we're back. Now let's move on.

Last chapter, we met Ocon, one of the bigger focus points of _Nutsy_. Why do I say this? He's the only holy man in the clan, so that's going to lead to quite a few things going on at once, including when we finally resolve the 'Shady Deals' portion of his backstory much later in this series. I've got huge plans for this character, and we'll see where that takes us.

It'll actually be a very interesting project for myself, seeing as it's an atheist trying to portray a holy man with any sense of dignity. I think I have a good approach to identify that with, though, so hopefully I'll do a good job at showing what a true holy man should act like. (And it'll give a massive 'fuck you' to all those televangelist assholes out there too. ;D)

In the meantime, I believe we have to find another human to join the clan, yes? So let's welcome our next character, this one who has a Cockney accent and everything! We zip towards the 'The Bell Tolls' mission this time, so let's see what that does to get people into our clan when they try to do something but you're a dick and you apologize. And in terms of continuity, this is just before the Daimond Rain mission, so we still haven't even gotten to the second totema by this point!

* * *

Theft

There was nothing more that Salsber hated than having to dig through piles of anything to get to whatever laid beneath. Even with his new claws and gadgeteer garb, he still found that digging through mountains of stuff that was just lying around was his least favorite thing to do.

Needless to say, the moogle was not thrilled when Montblanc told him about a gathering of scavengers at the ruins of the old belltower in Cadoan. When he heard that he would have to dig through rubble, Salsber was not too happy. He had agreed because he would do anything to make Montblanc comfortable since they were the best of friends, but Salsber could honestly say that this was his least favorite time in the clan so far.

It was an unusually hot Dienstag afternoon towards the end of Bardmoon, and poor Salsber was sweating. Most of the rest of the scavengers had left by that time after having found various trinkets and other things. Salsber himself had found some items of interest, but when he had set them off to the side he found that they had been stolen soon after. The moogle felt massively overworked by this point, and he was sweating and huffing as he dug into the rubble persistently.

His persistence stemmed party from the fact that he hated what he was doing and partly from a determination to please Montblanc. Salsber was usually one to try to make his friends as happy as he was able to, and if it meant giving some things up then he would gladly do it. This kept him going, but as he grew tired from digging he was beginning to vent more of his anger into it. This anger was fed by his determination but kept alive by the fact that he hated what he was doing with every fiber of his being.

Finally, after what had seemed an eternity of thinking and digging and growling despite himself, the gadgeteer stopped, feeling worked beyond the point of exhaustion, he fell on his back, looking up at the blazing sky as he breathed in and out, in and out, relentlessly until he felt he had gotten his breath back. He shook his head, wondering what he was going to tell Montblanc about the rubble and how he couldn't find anything in it. He half wished that the tower would reconstruct itself and fall apart again, just so he could come back and look and do the thing he hated to do all over again just so he could get some peace of mind. He greatly wished--

"'Ey, Governor, if I were you I'd keep a better look on me stuff, I would."

This sentence jolted Salsber out of his daze violently, and tired as he was he was still able to sit upright abruptly to look at a rather young human thief. The signature green bandana was worn on his head proudly, only a few strands of sandy-blonde hair falling down from beneath the hat-like object. In his hand, he held a few objects that the moogle immediately recognized as being the trinkets that he had found within the rubble. A great anger overcame the normally cheerful moogle as he snatched the items out of the human's hand.

"Hey, kupo!" cried the gadgeteer as loudly as he could given his exhaustion. "Didn't your momma tell you not to kupo other people's stuff?"

"Don't ya yell at me, Governor!" replied the human while holding his hands up defensilvely. "I just took it back for ya, I did! Iffun ya had said that to anybody else, ya'd've been pummeld, ye would've. Besides, 'ow did ya think ya lost track of it in the firs' place, eh?"

Salsber simply shook his head, laying back on the rubble beneath him. "You've got no idea what I've been going through, kupo!" replied the spent moogle. "So... much... digging..."

"Well, it ain't gonna be no good iffun ya don't watch your stuff," replied the thief with a rather cocky wave of his hand. "Just sayin', ya know?"

"Oh, shut up, kupo..." replied the tired moogle, still trying to catch his breath with the items now held in his tiny paws.

"Well, ya seem awful tired there," said the thief. "Ya need any help, or...?"

At this, Salsber stood up slowly and gave the human a look of scorn. "I don't need any of your help, kupo!" said the normally cheerful gadgeteer quite sternly. "And if you pull any stunts like that again, you're getting a kupo pounding!"

And with this, Salsber stormed off, leaving the human thief behind him. Looking after the moogle with a look of surprise on his face, the thief simply shook his head.

"What did I do wrong this time, eh?" asked the man in a light accent found in the streets of Cadoan. "I was jus' tryin' to 'elp!"

Shaking his head at this, the young thief simply lumbered off in a seemingly random direction.

"Peeple these days," he said aloud. "I don't know what ain't stuck up their bloody arses..."

* * *

Salsber walked along later that night, the dark Cadoan skies suddenly quite cool in a stark contrast to the burning heat of the day before. He had just eaten a rather hefty meal after the day's work and was now heading back to the inn to get some much-needed sleep. He knew from what others had said it was unsafe to run around at night, but the moolge figured he was prepared for anything that came his way. Such, he felt no need to hurry at all.

His thoughts wandered slowly to the human thief he had met earlier that day. The gadgeteer did not like hte idea of somebody having swiped his trinkets while he was working. He had been a thief before, so he knew he should have been a little more careful, but he had only become a thief to gain experience to become a gadgeteer. For the man to even return them later was an insult; looking back, the moogle was surprised he did not call the judge over to get the stranger behind bars. He wondered what would have gone differently if he had never even set eyes upon the thief.

Despite his carefree nature, Salsber often felt prone to these episodes of contemplation where he wondered about various things in the world. He traced it back to his quest to be a gadgeteer. It was something he had worked for essentially his whole life. He had always been fascinated by patterns, and when the young moogle had not been playing pranks on those dearest to him, he had been studying patterns and noticing things quite clearly. It had been this contemplative side that Salsber felt there was no need to show to the world, and so he was always going about pulling pranks on everybody. Besides, he was such a mischievous person by nature that he still spent more time playing pranks on others than thinking dark thoughts as he was sometimes prone to doing when he truly had nothing better to do.

As he though these things, though, the moogle failed to notice somebody creeping up behind him. The darkness of Cadoan's streets at night lent itself to people being able to freely sneak around. The fact that the street that Salsber was walking down was empty did not help anything, either. So it was not until Salsber felt himself get hoisted up by one of his wings that he realized he was being chased around.

"Wh-what?" cried the mooge suddenly as he came face to face with a rather stout bangaa character. "You let me go, kupo!"

"You think ssso...?" asked the bangaa, pulling a knife out and holding it to the moogle's throat. "I wouldn't talk if I were ya. There isss nobody to help you out, and I have a vengeanssse to cover on you."

"Me, kupo?" asked the suddenly violently confused moogle. "What did I kupo this time?"

The gadgeteer suddenly felt himself get violently shaken by the wing before being brought closer to the bangaa's face.

"You sssent that human after your ssstuff!" replied the bangaa as he began to walk towards the alleyway.

At this, the moogle was greatly repelled, a grimace forming on his face partly from the association with the human thief and partly from the pain in his wing that was beginning to show from how hard the lizard man was gripping the wing. "W-what?" asked Salsber loudly. "But I didn't get anybody to kupo my stuff back!"

"Ssshut up!" replied the bangaa, pressing the knife lightly against the moogle's flesh. "You know damn well who that human wasss, and you're gonna tell me who he is, now!"

"B-but I didn't send anybody after you, kupo!" repeated Salsber, now suddenly quite frightened such that he was completely still.

"You lie, furball!" cried the bangaa angrily.

Before anything else could be done, however, a dagger was suddenly flung at the hand that was holding the knife. With a howl, the bangaa's hand recoiled as the knife flew a short distance away and hit a wall before coming to a stop right next to a pile of discarded animal feces. Before the moogle's assailant could do anything else, Salsber suddenly found the arm holding him to be close enough to do damage. Without wasting any time, the moogle latched onto the bangaa and began biting his arm. The assailant began yelping in pain as the gadgeteer chewed on his arm, and suddenly the bangaa let go of the moogle's wing only to find that it had attached himself to his arm. The bangaa was unable to do anything about this, though, as suddenly he found himself get hit very hard from behind the head. After this, the moogle quickly jumped off of the bangaa's arm before he hit the ground unconscious.

Salsber looked at his assailant after letting out a few large breaths of air. The moogle fought back the urge to refer to the bangaa as a lizard before finally looking at the shadow of a person that had saved his life.

"Oh, thanks," said Salsber, bowing down. "I thought I was a goner, kupo!"

"Oh, now ya go thankin' me for all the 'ard work ya put me through!" replied the shadow. "I went roight and stole your stuff from this guy 'ere, and I 'ave ta beat 'im up for ya to like my efforts?

Salsber visibly stiffened upon recognizing the voice as belonging to the stranger he had met earlier that day. He quickly regained his composure, though, and he soon took on a curious look at the shadow.

"So that was you that stole the stuff back for me, kupo?" asked the moogle seriously.

"Yep, but since you were such a jerk this mornin' ya didn't see nothin'," replied the human. "And ya know what? I don't think I ain't ready to take your 'sorry's' jus' yet. Come on over to the bell tower in the mornin' and I'll believe ya."

"Wait, kupo!" cried the moogle suddenly.

Salsber had talked too late, however, for then the human sped off into the night, his silouhette quickly dissapearing in the night. This left the moogle to ponder how he could have been so cynical of the human's intentions earlier, and after a while of thinking he rushed back to the inn, eager to get some sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Salsber woke up rather groggily, but as soon as he realized he had to meet the stranger that had saved his life, he quickly jumped out of the bed. In just a few minutes the moogle was running out the door towards the site of the old belltower.

As soon as the moogle got there, he panted, his eyes scanning the area for the human thief he had seen yesterday. As the moogle's bright emerald eyes darted around, he saw the familiar human just a short ways away. Upon seeing this, he ran over to the human, crying out to him. In response, the human simply smirked, getting up from where he leaned against the railway, uncrossing his arms as he looked down at the moogle.

"Well, so ya came after all, Governor," said the human. "I guess I can take yer 'sorry' for real now."

Salsber wiped his brow, hoping the gesture did not come off as indifferent. "I just thought you were making fun of me, kupo," he replied.

The thief simply chuckled, shaking his head as he rolled his own jade eyes around. "Trust me, if I was goin' around stealin' peeple's stuff, the last thing I would want is ta make fun ef somebody fer it," he replied. "'Cause then it wouldn't be so 'ard not ta catch me..."

"Wha...?" asked the confused moogle. "You'd get away anyway, kupo?"

"Iffun I said it would be easy, I'd 'ave said, ''cause then it would be easy'," replied the man in his strange accent.

"Oh." Salsber nodded, understanding his speech a little better. "You think that's what would happen, kupo?"

The human nodded confidently. "I know it's what them robbers always think, Governor. I be livin' 'ere all me life, I 'ave. I know ever' one of them blighters like I know me own palm."

"Hm..." said Salsber, deep in thought. "You seem to be a kind of guy that would be good for a clan, kupo..."

"A clan?" asked the human quite loudly, almost violently surprised by this proposition. "What the 'ell are ya sayin' that for? I like me vreedom, thank ya very much!"

The moogle cocked his head to the side in confusion. "What, we don't give up our kupopo in the clans!" he replied.

"What do ya mean, ya don't give up none ef your freedom?" asked the blonde thief, now quite confused. "I always figured ya did, what with runnin' around ever'where!"

"It's only by choice, kupo!" insisted the moogle. "And besides, you look like the kind of kupo who would watch our stuff really well!"

"Really, Governor?" asked the human, thinking about this.

"Yeah, kupo!" said Salsber cheerfully. "And besides, we do need a good hand, kupo!"

The thief pondered on this subject briefly. The poor man had been trying to get off of the streets of Cadoan for ages by doing good deeds to others. None of the people he had helped were thankful, though, so he was still there. Now, he finally had a ticket out of there, and it took no small amount of convincing to get him out of there.

So in good humor, the thief scratched his chin.

"Well, I guess I've been 'ere far too long," he said simply. "All roight then, ya got it! Where to, Governor?"

"Oh, to Cyril, of course!" replied the moogle quite cheerfully. "And what's your name, kupo?"

"Me?" asked the thief as he walked with the gadgeteer. "Me name be Galor, Governor."

"And I'm Salsber, kupo," replied the moogle as he nodded. "I think you'll be good for the clan, kupo!"

The two of them walked off in a rather amicable fashion, conversing between themselves for quite some time as they eventually left the town of Cadoan on their way back to Nutsy's base.


	7. Scherzo Mendelssohn

Welcome back to Nutsy, all!

Last time, we met Galor, who fits into what I like to call the 'Eliza Doolittle archetype'. Essentially, this archetype is any person that has a strong sense of self-righteousness that flames up when they feel wronged by somebody else. It almost never escalates to physical violence, though, instead ending with a verbal argument unless somebody else lays the preemptive strike. Usually, they also come from low birth, although I've created one of these character types that was of noble birth (although it was a successful attempt to work a female character from that god damn Mozart opera where two guys switch places to woo each other's girlfriends at the prompting of some old masochist into an epic elsewhere on this site, so it might not count). This archetype is named after the central female character of George Bernard Shaw's play _Pygmalion_; if you haven't heard of it, either find the play and read it or get a hold of a copy of the movie version of the musical based on that play titled _My Fair Lady_.

So, yeah, that's all on Galor's character. So we're going to move on to get some moogles into our clan (I know I'm missing some Nu Mou, but I'll get there when it's appropriate!). And what better way to get it than to find it on the Run For Fun mission? We get to run around a little, so hang on to your hats!

And here is the first of the music prompts. I'm a huge classical music freak (hey, I'm a composition major studying at a conservatory school, can I help it?), so by and by I'll write some music prompts. Essentially, the idea is similar to that of the film _Fantasia_, only in text form and with no animation; I present a piece, and the idea is that there is a programmatic correlation between the two. Note that these are the only prompts that violate the one word use rule, since even the prompts that can have one word in their name will have to be renamed as they might be reused (for example, Scherzo (Mendelssohn) and Scherzo (Berio) (just for an example) denote two different entities). Instead, they'll have the name of the piece, whether or not it has one word. If it's an excerpt, I'll only use the movement if it's something like a symphony; otherwise, no. I'll also try to add a link to a youtube video of the piece if it's available, and for things that run longer than ten minutes or so I trust you can find the rest of it from the 'Related Videos' portion.

So for the first prompt, since we're running for fun, what else are we going to turn to but the Scherzo of Mendelssohn's Symphony no. 3, 'Scottish'? Ebullient and fun, so we're gonna go with that for this prompt. The corresponding youtube video: http:// www. youtube. com/ watch ?v=GuD6_hnmjw8. Take out all the spaces and we're in good hands. As for when to start playing, you'll see the symbol %^&^% when it comes time to play it, so you'll know where it fits.

* * *

Scherzo (Mendelssohn)

Cecille looked around Cadoan, wondering why most of the dispatch missions they had taken on had centered around the city of magic and art. This mystified the young viera as she looked around town in her sniper garb, holding a change of clothes in her arm as she looked for a pair of moogles she was supposed to meet.

There was a marathon that was going to happen beginning from Cadoan. The only problem was that one of the running teams had an injured runner. Thus, Cecille was called in as a replacement courtesy of Montblanc and Marche. So she was going to meet with two moogles who would take her to where the running team would be.

The viera's life had been rather good so far; her mother was making a rather steady recovery from her debilitating illness and was now much better than she had been when Cecille first joined Nutsy. Cecille had also become a sniper at this point, as her garb had shown. She was about to switch to become a fencer, however; one of the things she knew was annoying about becoming an assassin was the fact that she had to dabble in all but two of the jobs that Vieras normally worked in. She was willing to take the abuse, however, especially since her mother was pushing her in that direction and the viera would do whatever it took to see that smile on her mother's face.

The sniper was pulled from her thoughts when she felt a tug at her dress. When she turned around, she saw two moogles that looked almost exactly identical if not for their different clothing styles. The both of them had fur that was white as snow with a grey ball hovering above their beings. Both of them had rather small crimson eyes that somehow were not entirely creepy to Cecille at all. The one wore a mog knight's garb; Cecille could tell the plain jumpsuit from quite a distance away. The other one was a little harder to pinpoint since he was wearing some running clothes, but from the black make-up on the moogle's cheeks the viera was able to make the guess that the other moogle was a juggler.

"Hey, kupo," replied the mog knight first. "You wouldn't happen to be from Clan Nutsy, would you?"

"Oh, yes!" replied Cecille, looking down at the two moogles. "You must be from the Blue Team at the academy."

"Indeed we are, kupo!" replied the supposed juggler cheerfully. "I though we were gonna be gone, kupo! Our injured friend was the best guy on our team!"

Cecille giggled nervously as the two moogles jumped onto her shoulders. Inside, Cecille was a little apprehensive; she had only just realized she had big shoes to fill. She hoped her agility and stamina as a sniper would help her case out, but she did not trust herself at all in this regard. The viera knew that she had run a rather good marathon before, but she was not sure if her game was still there.

However, she did her best to hide her fright under a cheery smile, which seemed to work. "Really?" she asked, trying to mask her fears behind curiosity. "They didn't say that. Why not say something before we try to fill huge shoes?"

"Why didn't we say, kupo?" asked the mog knight, a slight hint of irritation seeping into his voice. "People wouldn't have come to help us, kupo!"

"I see..." said the viera. "I wonder, though; I thought they only taught arts and magic at the academy?"

"Oh, no, kupo!" replied the juggler. "They do sports there too, kupo! It's a kupo place to learn juggling, it is! And we get to hang out with the music people, too, kupo!"

"Whoah, music people?" asked Cecille, her interest piqued by this mention. "I'll bet that's pretty cool."

"That's an underkupo!" retorted the mog knight. "It's awesome is what it is, kupo!"

The viera giggled, her fears settled by the sheer energy emanating from these two moogles. "I can see why..." said Cecille. "I'm Cecille, by the way."

"I'm Nero," began the mog knight indicating himself. "And the other kupo is my twin, Evor."

At this, Cecille nearly paused in her walking. "You two are twins?" she asked.

"You couldn't tell, kupo?" asked Evor suddenly. "The only kupopo between us is my makeup!"

The viera rolled her eyes, groaning and wearing a slight frown before she spoke, biting sarcasm dripping from her voice. "Oh, gee, your makeup was so obvious I just had to miss it! I'm so unobservant like that! Maybe next time I run into a rockbeast I'll poke it with my fingers and expect it to die!"

This effectively silenced the juggler. However, somehow the mog knight found it amusing, his crimson eyes lighting up in amusement before chuckling lightly. Evor shot his twin brother a half-hearted glare before turning his head away.

"That was actually kind of funny, kupo..." said Nero. "Especially the rockkupo part."

Surprised by this, Cecille turned to Nero, one of her ears almost hitting the two twins in the face. "Why?" she asked. "I wouldn't think a snarky comment would be the least bit funny."

"It's the over-kupopo," replied Evor, still sour about the burn. "It was so kupopo that he couldn't help himself."

"Hm..." replied Cecille, shrugging lightly as she turned her head, the ears nearly hitting the two moogles again. "I'll have to keep that in mind for the next time I try to make a joke..."

"Well, just be careful you don't kill the funny, kupo," added Evor sullenly.

To this, Cecille was only able to reply with a confused look flying all over her sapphire eyes. Nero, on the other hand, began laughing so hard Cecille was afraid he would laugh his pants off in the busy Cadoan marketplace. Despite this, the viera continued walking on, Nero laughing on her shoulders and nearly falling off with Evor rolling his eyes at this display of absurdity that the juggler was sure could not lead to anything good.

* * *

The next day, Cecille had donned her rather skimpy running outfit and was already at the academy. She felt absolutely ashamed having to show off her body in an almost provocative manner, but she knew that some things simply could not be helped at all when it came to running long distances. Thankfully, the blue clothing she had on then didn't show off too much; maybe her cleavage was the main selling point and that was it. Her brown fur was visible to all around her, though, and trying to blend into the crowd became difficult. She could have sworn that somebody had been eyeing her all the time, but she had brushed this off when she had gotten to the academy.

Evor and Nero were both perched on her shoulder; they had showed her around the academy the previous day, and now they were off leading Cecille to where the running team was getting together for the day's events. The three of them were actually an hour early for the meeting, but Cecille did not take chances; according to Nero and Evor, there was no warm-up before the meetings, so she had to run at least an hour in advance to warm up. It was crucial to do it then, as the races usually began after a short pep talk with the whole team.

As the three of them were hurrying along, Cecille very narrowly bumped into several of the students that were bustling around for the day. The viera was getting all kinds of yelling from Nero and Evor about it, even though she was trying her hardest to navigate the vast halls of the Cadoan Academy of Arts and Magic without trying to hit anybody.

This did not help her, though, because with all of the constant nagging she was getting from her two moogle companions she eventually did run right into somebody else. Thankfully, neither of them were sent plummeting to the ground, given how Cecille was not actually running but rather taking up a fast walk. Cecille quickly brought her hands over her mouth and gasped.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she said quickly.

"Hm?" asked the person she bumped into, noticing the viera and her two moogle companions. "What are you apologizing for?"

"Nikolai, what are you kupoing about?" asked Evor suddenly.

It was then that the viera noticed the human she had bumped into. Slung over his shoulder was a black bag, probably meant for carrying a lute or some other instrument of that variety.

"Well, you three are in a hurry unless you're not the replacement runner...?" said the human, implying a question in his sentence.

"Oh, yes, yes I am!" replied Cecille, nodding her head fervently. "But still, I should've been more careful..."

"Nonsense," replied the human, a light smile gracing his features as he winked at her with sparlking emerald eyes. "I guess you must also be stressed about having to fill in large shoes."

The viera hung her head slightly before nodding. "Well, yeah, actually, I am," replied Cecille.

"Kupo, you're not supposed to worry her more!" cried out Evor.

"Oh, relax Evor, I'm just telling her not to worry about bumping into one person," replied the human gracefully before turning back to the viera. "Anyways, I hope you do well in the races."

"Oh, thanks..." replied Cecille, holding out a hand to him just a little awkwardly. "I'm Cecille."

"I am Nikolai," the human said, grabbing the viera's hand and shaking it. "I hope Nero and Evor aren't giving you too much of a problem."

"Oh, they're the opposite!" stated Cecille with a laugh. "They're the most cheerful people I've ever met in my life!"

"They are cheerful like that, yes," replied the human. "Anyways, you should probably get going. From what I hear from Evor, you'll need to warm up soon. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Cecille."

The viera could only smile before nodding in kind. "Same here," said Cecille. "Good luck in... whatever you're doing here."

"Thank you," replied Nikolai.

With that, he disappeared into the crowd, the sniper looking after him with rather wistful eyes. "He seems like such a nice guy," said Cecille.

"He is, kupo," replied Evor with a smile. "He can be a bit of a snob at times, but he's not a bad person, kupo!"

"A snob?" asked Cecille. "Why is that?"

"He's from one of the noble houses of Berevinia," Nero stated with a pat of Cecille's head.

At this, Cecille scoffed indifferently. "I find that hard to believe, actually, what with how polite he was. And I'm not being sardonic, either."

"I found it a little hard to kupopo when he told us too, kupo," said Evor. "He's studying to become an illusionist and a lutanist."

"Oh, so that was a lute he was carrying with him?" asked the viera.

"Yep," replied Evor. "Now let's go before we're late!"

"Ah, right!" exclaimed Cecille.

She began moving again, trying to dodge the student body of the academy as well as she could while still trying to get to the warm-up space as quickly as she could.

* * *

%^&^%

At the starting line just over an hour later, Cecille looked to Nero and Evor just a few people away from where she was poised, ready to run. She simply stood poised, ready to run.

Just for assurance, however, she looked to Evor and Nero. Evor looked up from his position along the starting line, also in a blue uniform and winking at Cecille. Nero, on the other hand, was standing with the rest of the spectators, ready to watch the race and ready to cheer his own brother and his new friend on. The viera could almost imagine their words of encouragement as she stood poised to run; they left that much of an impression on her personality in the short time they had known each other.

She simply nodded, however, leaving an appreciative smile for them before she looked ahead, aqua eyes set on the finish line that was quite a ways off.

On the side of the starting line, a moogle holding a rather large gun was seen raising the firearm into the air. As soon as the gun sounded off, the racers were off, and Cecille was rocketing towards the front of the pack almost instantly.

The viera did not look back on the starting line, trying to take in the feeling around her to keep herself from getting overly nervous about anything. She concentrated on the wind sending her white hair flying behind her as she moved as quickly as she could. She also thought about the two moogles running behind her and wondered what they would be saying to her to cheer her on. They were on the same team, after all; she was sure they would be cheering her on.

All the while, she kept thinking about how proud her mother would be that she had given her all on the first dispatch mission she had ever taken with Nutsy. The woman had been afraid of taking the dispatch missions what with her mother's health; she never expected that her mother of all people was the one who would tell her to pursue those dispatch missions. It was really this that made Cecille worry so much; she wanted to make sure her mother was proud of her for clearing her first dispatch mission.

The motions continued, and Cecille suddenly noticed a rather lanky human taking his place just ahead of Cecille. Seeing this, the viera tried to edge a little ahead of the human, but found that she was beginning to lose the slight edge. However, she was still able to put up a good race against the human as they went head to head for the front of the pack for quite some time within the marathon.

The distance felt a little long about halfway through the race, however, and she started to feel herself tire out just a little. However, she knew that she had big shoes to fill, so as her feet repeatedly connected with the ground below her she continued moving. The marathon was not an easy run, and Cecille knew that, but she would try to keep a look on the positive side of everything she was doing.

Eventually, after God knew how long a time she spent at the front of the pack, the race had ended, and Cecille had taken second place right behind a person from one of the other running teams. All the viera remembered was a rather strong sense of victory, and man was she exhausted. She had been running for hours on end, but to her it all passed as if it was a few minutes.

She barely heard the encouraging words that the moogle twins had to offer her, she was so tired from the races. She simply smiled in acknowledgement, and nodded as they took care not to get on her shoulders. They really had been a great source of encouragement, even though they never actually said anything to her throughout the race. The viera just decided to leave it at the fact that they commanded quite a presence around them such that whatever they told her stuck with her for essentially the entire day. She was just quite happy about them being there in person; she was not so sure she could have done it without their presense seemingly encouraging her to move on despite the odds.

* * *

"Hey, kupo, that was pretty awesome running yesterday!"

"Oh, you two are too modest."

"Hey, you took a good place in a race as a stand-in, kupo! What's not kupo about that?"

"Well... I don't know, actually."

"Then don't be so un-kupo about it! Be happy, kupo!"

Cecille simply shrugged.

The next day had come almost too quickly for the viera, and people had been congratulating her on her win in the marathon almost all the way to the inn of Cadoan. She of course felt no need for any of it as she eventually managed to change back into her customary sniper garb, and despite the fact that she wanted to hear nothing of the race people were still giving her some praise over that. The viera wondered what about being in second place for a stand-in runner was so special, but in the end she decided that they were just celebrating over the fact that she successfully filled the shoes of another runner.

"Well, I don't know how filling in shoes is so special, but I'll roll with the punches, if you will," replied the viera simply.

Nero simply looked up at the cieling of Cecille's inn room, Evor simply looking off to the side with a slight groan.

The juggler shifted a little in his position on the bed of the inn, facing Cecille. "So, kupo, you're part of clan Nutsy..."

"Yes," said Cecille. "What of it?"

"Well, in a few days, we've got graduations at the academy, kupo!" replied Nero quickly. "And Evor has to go into a clan to prove his kupo skills!"

The viera's eyes instantly lit up. "Oh, so you want to join clan Nutsy, then?"

"Yeah, kupo!" replied Nero, his own scarlet eyes lighting up in excitement. "I wanna join too, if only to be close to my brother!"

"Really?" asked Cecille with a shrug. "Well, how many days until graduations?"

"Four, kupo," replied Evor with a straight face.

As soon as this number was said, the viera rocketed off the bed, almost causing Nero to tumble off of the article of furniture as she rushed to her desk. Quickly, she grabbed a quill out of the inkwell and jotted things down on one of the sheets of paper that was laying around.

"I'll just write this note then," said the viera as she scribbled furiously on the sheet of paper. "Everything will be in good hands once this gets to Cyril."

"You really think so, kupo?" asked Evor, scratching his head as the ball attached to his head rose a little bit.

"Yep," replied Cecille as she finished writing the note.

Nero simply gaped at the woman as she folded the note and quickly scribbled an address. "You write fast, kupo!" he said loudly.

"Learned it rather well from my mother," replied Cecille. "So, Evor, you juggle, right?"

"Yep!" exclaimed the juggler with a nod. "I can even juggle your arrows if you want."

"Uh... I'd rather you not..." said the viera, her voice trailing a little. "You know how dangerous that is, right?"

Evor simply jumped over to where Cecille's arrows were (she knew she would not need them for the mission, but it always payed to be prepared in case of an unexpected bandit attack was the way she looked at it), and then he picked up five arrows and began juggling them. As if tempting fate, the moogle juggled the arrows from their tips. This greatly amused Nero and greatly disturbed Cecille, and as the two of them watched the moogle do all kinds of crazy stunts with the arrows, the viera suddenly realized how much more insane life would be in the clan if Evor, who apparently had a flair for danger, and Nero, who was somewhat dull, would form an alliance with Salsber and become a prank team extraordinaire.

She quickly shook this thought out of her head, however, and instead tried to focus on the antics that the moogle brought to life with the stunts that Evor pulled off with perfect finesse and style.


	8. Desperate

Okay, people, apologies if this was a little late.

So, other news? Well, I've got some stuff I've done for a collab in the Sonic section where various people do oneshots on couples. So if you're into the Sonic games, be sure to check that section in the near future and look for 'Dark Side of the Hog', published by Madhog thy Master but with oneshots by many, many incredibly talented authors. Check it, and in time you should see a oneshot by me; the oneshot is titled _Golaud_, and the pairing is Shadow/Amy/Sonic. You can find it here; http:// www. fanfiction. net/s/ 4909788/33/ The_Dark_Side_of_the_Hog. Once again, take out all spaces and we should be good. (And please leave all comments you have on that story there at the collab; I'll respond to your reviews for that with a PM.)

Now, back to Nutsy. Last chapter, we were introduced to Evor and Nero, who, with Salsber, eventually form the prank team extraordinaire. And no, before you ask, not all my moogle are cheerful; there's one moogle character that I'll be introducing soon enough who drops all 'kupos' from his sentences, so look out for that!

We also got introduced to Nikolai last chapter, although it was only a passing glance in the grand scheme of things. However, I put him there for a reason; Nikolai is important because he'll eventually join the clan. So when he does, look forward to hearing more from him! (Also, lutes FTW.)

Now, with that said, let's talk about our next recruitment. This next recruitment takes more from the Fire Emblem series (which I am a huge enormous fan of; if you haven't played any of the games in the series, you're really missing out!) than it does FFTA: In Fire Emblem, you can talk to certain people and recruit them into your army just like that. Sometimes, you need them to talk to somebody else, who also gets recruited. Hence, the premise of this recruitment. It's a Borzoi engagement, so there's something slightly plot-related about it.

Right. And now, for something completely different.

* * *

Desperate

Amelia had not been sure of anything ever since she had joined Clan Borzoi. All she knew was that there was some element of adventure missing in her life that had been there ever since her older sister had gone off to become a summoner.

The viera had run away from her home since then, looking for adventure and the chance to become a great elementalist. To this end, she had joined Clan Borzoi in her quest to sate her longing for adventure, and on the way she had finally picked up that rapier to start casting elemental spells.

But what she actually got was a far cry from adventure. Amelia had come to realize that what they mainly did was do nothing but cause trouble. Harassing other clans out of money was enough, but the fact that they were smuggling animals from other lands as well sort of sickened the viera. She did not like that set-up one bit, and she had been considering leaving Borzoi for a while.

That option was just out of her reach, however; Gukko was a control freak despite how everybody generally depicted him, and if clan members left Clan Borzoi he usually made it a point to hunt them down like cattle. It had happened to one of the other clanspeople, and the poor person ended up dying by Gukko's hand. It had been very, very unintentional, but the viera was still concerned about leaving Borzoi. As she looked out on the night sky outside of their base, she shook her head, wondering when the opportunity to leave would ever present itself.

"Miss Amelia, are you okay?"

Amelia sighed at this as she turned to face the nu mou she knew she was standing behind her. Indeed, the beastmaster she had come to know incredibly well was Amelia's only friend in Borzoi. Just like her, Oigen was a good soul who got caught in the middle. The two were practically siblings in a hostile environment, and whenever they had something they needed to spill they had come to depend on each other like the squirrel depended on the tree.

"Oigen..." said Amelia softly. "I... I just don't know if being in Borzoi is such a good idea anymore... I'm thinking of leaving..."

The nu mou walked over to his companion, patting her on the shoulder as he looked up at the stars, brown eyes hazing over as he gazed at the stars

"Well, you know what they can do to us if they find us," began Oigen. "I think we should find a safe way of getting out of here first before we leave."

"You're right," said Amelia, acknowledging her friend with a nod. "But I can't help but feel that I will lose my sanity in this place..."

Oigen let out a mirthless laugh before shaking his head fervently. "I think we all have by this point," said the nu mou insightfully. "I know I lost it when I started absorbing the souls myself..."

"And that's when you went back to being a simple beastmaster..." said Amelia softly. "I know I shouldn't probe about that..."

"It's not your fault," replied Oigen softly. "It just felt so... wrong... I still cannot understand why Gukko would do that to any living being..."

Amelia chose to say nothing to this, instead looking at the stars longingly. "I wish I knew where my sister was. She'd be able to protect us from anything Borzoi sent after us."

"Who knows?" asked Oigen, extending his hand out to the surrounding forest as he looked at Amelia. "Maybe she is headed this way with a rival clan."

"I don't know," said Amelia with a slight shrug. "I don't think we should be talking about leaving here so close to Gukko."

"Neither do I," said Oigen, looking behind him apprehensively. "I do hope he's not listening..."

The viera scoffed at this, closing her violet eyes as she let out the sound. "Are you kidding?" she asked. "Gukko's hearing is not that great!"

"You're right," said Oigen with a nod. "Still, I have bad feelings. Let's go back into the base, and we'll think about this tomorrow."

Amelia nodded in reply, and the two of them walked back into the base without any further words exchanged between the two of them as they entered the base.

* * *

"Miss Amelia! Miss Amelia! A rival clan is attacking the base!"

Amelia was already awake by this time, but Oigen's beckoning yells were enough to send her flying out of bed. Morning alerts were never kind to her, but she knew she had to put up with them every so often. Thinking of this, the viera very quickly changed into her elementalist garb and grabbed the rapier from were it was leaned against the wall before running straight out of the room. She would have bumped into Oigen if she had not been any more careful, but as it as she managed to run out without bumping into her only companion in a sea of hostility.

"W-what?" asked Amelia immediately upon exiting her room.

"You heard me!" replied Oigen frantically, grabbing her arm as he ran outside. "Now let's move!"

They were outside almost immediately, and indeed a clan engagement had already begun on the grounds of Borzoi, with a group of six other fighters lead by a blonde boy who was coming right for the members of one of the most mischievous clans in Ivalice. Gukko had stood off to one side, waiting for another clansperson to come along and fight them. Amelia's violet eyes were darting around the field as Oigen held on to her arm, trying to get a good feel of what was going on.

She was doing this when her eyes suddenly fell on somebody who was wearing a summoner's garb whose face looked all too familiar to the viera. She noticed this suddenly, and then shook her arm out of Oigen's grip. After a second of trying to figure out where she had seen the face from, she realized who it belonged to, and shook Oigen's arm and pointed at the mysterious viera.

"Oigen!" Amelia said almost hurriedly. "I know this sounds crazy, but I think I see my sister fighting with the rest of them!"

The beastmaster had taken his instrument out by this time, so when he whipped his head around to look at his friend he was so flabberghasted he almost dropped the instrument.

"Are you sure?" he asked quickly.

"Yes!" said Amelia, watching the woman running to and fro. "I'll go talk to her, see if she wants to help."

"You go do that, and I'll pretend I'm on their side until you come back for me," said Oigen.

"Will do," replied Amelia.

The two then went seperate ways, Oigen to go fight a rather large bangaa that was doing battle with a lesser member of Borzoi as Amelia made a beeline towards her older sister, dodging various projectiles from a far-off sniper on the way.

"Lutia! Lutia!" called out the viera, running straight to the summoner.

The summoner was instantly distracted by these calls, such that the spell she had been preparing to unleash on Amelia was interrupted. Amelia promptly went up to her and bowed before promptly feeling a slight sting on the back of her head from where Lutia's hand had slapped her.

"Ow!" she shouted, holding her head in pain.

"That is for all the hardship you caused to mother!" replied Lutia angrily. "What were you thinking, Amelia?"

"I just wanted adventure!" shouted the viera against her sister. "And I--!"

"You killed are mother over adventure?" asked Lutia angrily, Amelia noticing that she was fighting back the urge to hit her sister with her staff next. "She was so worried about you she died of a heart attack! Why didn't you come back when you heard? And what the hell are you doing with Borzoi, anyway?"

Amelia was silent, regarding this news for a brief second before shaking her head.

"They didn't tell me she had died!" Amelia replied, her violet eyes closed. "Why the hell are you saying this now?"

Lutia's reply came in the form of a slap, and Amelia felt the sting horribly as she noticed Lutia glaring in absolute hate for her.

"Don't you ever use that language around me, you hear, Amelia?" asked Lutia angrily. "Or so help me God I'll send you straight to the grave right next to mother! How could you have done this?"

"Sister, please, you're not listening to me!" cried Amelia against both the clamor of the battle around them and her own sister. "I can't be in Borzoi anymore! You don't have any idea how bad it is! I've been wanting out for a while, so please, Lutia, just help me and my friend!"

Lutia simply looked at her sister angrily, shaking her head.

"Something in my mind is telling me you are lying," began the eletist viera simply. "And yet, you are my sister, so it would be unfair of me not to help you..."

The older viera nodded once before crossing her arms.

"Well, all right," she said. "But only because you are my sister. If you were anybody else, I'd have struck you down right here. Now get this friend of yours over here and I'll get you two in the clan."

Relief could not even begin to describe the emotions going through Amelia's mind at the moment.

"Ah, thank you!" replied Amelia with a bow of her head. "I'll get him right away!"

And with this, Amelia had sped off, away from her sister and to where she had seen Oigen run over to join the fray.

* * *

"And you better not pull a stunt like this ever again, sister, you hear?"

"Yes, Lutia."

"Good. I'll take you over to Muscadet tomorrow then so you can see your mother's grave."

"Yes, Lutia."

The older viera left the room at the inn, Oigen sitting in the other bed of the rather small room and listening to this conversation.

The battle against Borzoi had ended rather well, and thankfully Amelia was able to survive with Oigen by her side. Gukko had been finished off right then and there, and the rest of Borzoi's operations were uncovered. Of course, Amelia and Oigen had to get acquited for their part in Borzoi's activities, but since most of the people in Nutsy testified towards Amelia's betrayal of Borzoi and how she fought hard agins them (despite the fact she still did not know most of the people in the clan) that was rather easy to attain. Elementalist and beastmaster had then been given a formal welcome to Clan Nutsy by quite a few people, and after that they had gone over to the inn in Cadoan to rest.

"Your sister..." began Oigen after this encounter with Lutia. "Has she always been that mean?"

"No..." replied Amelia, shaking her head. "She was never like his before she went off to become a summoner."

"It must have been your mother's death, then..." said the nu mou, appending a hand gesture to this. "Why didn't she just go to your father?"

Amelia shook her head, chuckling nervously as Oigen raised his eyebrows.

"My father was one of those kinds who's in it only for the sex, you know?" asked Amelia. "I never knew my father; he left my mother before I was born. And Lutia was only two when he left my mother, so she barely remembers him..."

Oigen nodded slowly, regarding the bitter tone in Amelia's voice as an indication of her hatred for her father.

"I see..." he said. "I wonder how your mother died..."

"I can't believe some people knew but didn't say anything about it!" exclaimed Amelia. "She was very well known in the community of Muscadet! Someone should have heard!"

"Maybe they did not know you well enough," replied Oigen softly. "But still, I do see why you are so angry about it. Especially since Gukko could have been involved."

Amelia shook her head, looking up at the ceiling with a slight look of desperation on her face.

"I think my sister is taking her death out on me..." said Amelia softly. "That's probably why she is so snarky to me right now..."

"I hope you two can patch it up soon," said Oigen as he looked outside to the night sky, spying the stars with a slight sense of unease.

"I hope so too," said Amelia after a slightly uncertain pause, her gaze still cast at the ceiling.


	9. Companionship

All right, and we're back with this!

Last chapter, we met Amelia and Oigen. So let's talk about them separately.

Amelia is Lutia's younger sister and the much more adventurous of the two. Her antics are a little reserved for most of Nutsy thanks to her sister's eye, but it's this relationship with which I plan to bring out the worst side of Lutia's elitism. So yeah, expect a lot of clashing between these two with almost no reconciliation planned.

And then there's Oigen, the beastmaster who becomes the clan's resident morpher. There's a plot thread I introduce with this guy; he used to extract his own souls, and it'll take him a while to get over that. So in the meantime, enjoy him bitching about how he hates himself so much.

Anyways, let's return to the dispatch mission thing, where we recruit a new nu mou and a new human character! So let's meet our two new characters!

* * *

Companionship

"Oh, Tenessey, please do be careful out there."

"Don't worry, dear. I should be all right."

"Daddy, please come back!"

"Don't worry, I will, James! And who knows? Maybe I might be in a clan when I come back!"

"I do hope everything turns out all right with that, Tenessey. I don't want to get sent out of our home just yet..."

"There is nothing to worry about, Rowena. I should come back soon."

"All right, dear. Be careful."

"I will."

And with that, the older nu mou left his family behind.

Tenessey had been having a hard life lately; he had been having a difficult time ever since he had left the academy as an alchemy student. He had married a fellow student, Rowena, also a nu mou, and with their son James things should have gotten better. But for some reason, they did not.

Which was why the alchemist was leaving home that day; there were reports of a raging river that was going to flood an area, and Tenessey had taken on a call to help. It was odd jobs like these that made sure his family had food on their plates, but Tenessey had higher aspirations, such as joining a clan. He knew it was no easy work, but he would go with whatever he felt was best for Rowena and little James.

For now, though, he was stuck doing odd jobs for various postings at the pub. He desperately hoped this job would be the one that would finally land him a spot in one of Ivalice's clans. It was the same treatment he gave every job, but this time he had a strong feeling he would finally join a clan.

* * *

Tenessey had finally arrived at the site of the Pilos River at around the location where the people working on the wild river were gathering on a rather hot Dienstag morning. He had been one of the first people to arrive there for the briefing, and now he was sitting under a canopy made of canvas. He was the only one under the canvas, as the person briefing them on their task was waiting for everybody else to arrive.

As he looked at the farmland surrounding the river, Tenessey's thoughts drifted to the things he did for his family. The weather was incredibly hot and humid aroud the Pilos River, and Tenessey, always one to dress up in his alchemist garb even for odd jobs, found that he was extremely comfortable and that his sweat was sticking to his beige fur. He found this sweat was also annoying him even after he was doing no work; he had to take off his hat and his coat in light of this, but even then he still felt rather hot. Thankfully, the shade provided some relief, and so he was able to be as comfortable as the prospect of his sweat not evaporating allowed.

Eventually, his thought drifted over to little James. His five-year-old son was a true blessing in his rather gritty life. The poor soul knew nothing about the financial state of his parents, and even though this pained Tenessey to no end the father felt it was best to keep it that way. After all, James' innocence was one of the few beacons of light in Tenessey's adult life, and he was determined to leave it be for as long as he possibly could. He was also determined to ensure his child's happiness, which brought him right back to where he had begun with his thoughts.

He was disturbed out of his reverie when he heard footfalls close to his body, and then the slight plop of somebody sitting down next to him. The nu mou looked over to find a human man dressed down to his white pants, leaving the rest of his body to be cooled by the canopy of canvas. The man seemed rather young, wih long black hair flowing down his shoulders.

"Hello," he said, his voice friendly.

"Good day," replied Tenessey. "You're here for the Pilos damming?"

"Yeah," said the human with a shrug. "I'm actually also doing a little exploring since I'm here."

"Ah, you're one of the adventurous types?" asked the nu mou.

The human shook his head, bright auburn eyes dimming slightly.

"No, actually," he said softly. "I'm actually looking for my brother. I haven't found him throughout most of the standard runaway spots in Ivalice, so I thought to check here."

Tenessey's eyebrow rose slightly at this. "Your sibling has gone missing?"

"Has been for three years," said the human. "I think it was when my parents refused to send him to Muscadet's archery school..."

"Oh?" asked the nu mou. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be," replied the human. "I just miss his presence is all. It's like what would happen if a five year old kid was killed and his parents were left with--"

"Please don't use that kind of comparison," replied a suddenly slightly revolted Tenessey. "I don't want to think of what would happen if my own son died before his prime."

The human tensed all too briefly before wincing, realizing his mistake.

"Oh, sorry," he said. "I probably shouldn't have..."

"It's all right," replied the nu mou with a wave of his hand. "It just touches a sensitive spot, what with my family's poor standing in the social ladder. I am Tenessey, by the way."

The nu mou extended a hand to the human, which he then took rather heartily and shook.

"Carlos," replied the human. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," replied the nu mou with a slight smile on his face. "I do hope we find your brother here..."

Carlos shrugged. "Who knows?" asked the human. "Maybe we'll get lucky?"

"Maybe," said Tenessey.

At this point, a bangaa strode into view, but this one stopped upon seeing Carlos sitting in the tent. Noticing this, the human turned around and was greatly surprised to see the red-scaled bangaa that was standing there.

"N-no way!" the human said, standing up and regarding the half-naked lizard man. "How're you here?"

"The clan hassss itssss wayssss," replied the bangaa. "Carlossss, wassss it?"

"Yeah!" replied the human, looking at his acquaintance. "And your name was Ingg, right?"

"That it wasss!" replied Ingg with a laugh, patting Carlos on the shoulder as he looked to the nu mou that was still a little perplexed at this. "Hello there, sssir!"

"Oh! Uh, good day!" replied the alchemist as he stood up quickly. "I'm Tenessey, at your service..."

Ingg chuckled good naturedly as the nu mou found himself pulled into a fierce bro hug before being released quickly. "Come on, sssir, you have to be more friendly than that!"

"Oh, well, your sudden appearance caught me just the slightest bit off guard," replied the nu mou. "Ingg, I presume?"

"Yesss, sssir!" replied the bangaa with a polite bow. "Great to meet you!"

"Likewise," said Tenessey, only now smiling. "So... when do we get started on this?"

"Soon, I hope," said Carlos, indicating the stream of people that was slowly coming in. "At this rate, things will be going a lot faster."

Tenessey and Ingg simply nodded, watching the other people come in to work on the dam.

* * *

Later the same day, Ingg, Carlos, and Tenessey had formed one small contingent amongst the group working at the dam. The hot sun bore over their bodies, and now everybody working at the dam had stripped so that the only thing they wore was the cloths they kept as underwear. Some were so audacious as to strip completely; thankfully, Tenessey had seen this in bad taste as he, Carlos, and Ingg were still slightly clothed. The sun had only gotten stronger as the day wore on, which was one reason why Tenessey was so glad he wasn't doing any sort of manual labor.

The way it was working was that the dam was being built of various materials that the creators were distributing. There were other details that Tenessey did not bother to listen to since they did not pertain to his portion of the wall, so he was content making everything stick together with some form or other of magic, with Ingg and Carlos both laying materials for Tenessey to mend together.

As they worked, the group conversed amongst themselves as everybody else was, all of them still being concentrated on their line of work as they spoke.

"Ssso, you have a wife and ssson?" asked Ingg to Tenessey as Carlos put a piece in place.

"Yes," replied Tenessey, promptly using his magic to seal that particular portion of the dam together. "It's why I'm here, actually; I do this to keep my family safe."

"I ssssee..." said Ingg as he laid a material down. "You know, I alwayssss wondered what it'ssss like to have a family..."

"Why's that?" asked Carlos as he watched Tenessey meld another set of materials together. "I mean, you must've had parents, right?"

"I did," replied Ingg. "But I felt very neglected by them..."

Tenessey paused slightly as Ingg lay the material down, the nu mou noticing the slightly regretful way that he laid the material down. "In what sense?" he asked, welding materials again.

"Well, my father wassss a templar for the court..." began Ingg as he and his two companions worked. "But then Remedi came in, and... well, he got fired... And then he drank too much."

"Oh, dear, that can't have had a good ending," replied Carlos. "I hope you weren't four years old when that happened..."

Ingg shook his head. "Three," he said simply.

This caused both Carlos and Tenessey to gawk at the bangaa, and they would have stopped what they were doing completely if not for the fact that they had a schedule to keep.

"Oh no..." said Tenessey. "That's horrible..."

"Yeah," said Ingg, looking up at the sky as he laid a material down. "I think he killed my mother when I was four. It was right in front of my fassse, too..."

"Oh, that's terrible!" exclaimed Carlos, laying his material down quickly and gesturing wildly. "How did you get out of that?"

Ingg sighed before shrugging and laying a material down right before Tenessey could mend it. "I don't know how myssself," replied Ingg. "But sssomehow, my good friend Hopper took me in with hisss family."

"Well, that should count as a family experience," said Tenessey as he mended materials together. "How did it not count?"

"Sssomething about it wasss too perfect," replied Ingg simply. "Plusss, when I went off to become a templar, I didn't hear anything from them again until I ran into Hopper again lassst Sssagemoon. I don't know what it wasss. It jussst never felt right..."

"I see..." replied Tenessey, looking down at the materials that Carlos had put down. "Well, being a father is probably a more gratifying experience anyways, I'll be honest. Being a father... it's wonderful. I simply can't find another way to say it... It is always quite hard, but the fruits of your effort are usually worth it."

Ingg nodded at this as he placed more materials down on top of Carlos' materials. "I sssee..." he said. "Ssso a good family issss a great thing to have?"

"Yes, simply put," replied Tenessey.

"I guess you're an only child, then?" asked Carlos.

"Yes," replied Ingg as he wiped some sweat from his forehead. "Why, brothersss are a pain?"

"Well, not really, actually," replied the human as he scratched the back of his head. "They're good things to have, actually. It's too bad you never had any, though..."

"I sssee..." replied Ingg with a shrug. "I've been consssidering ssstarting a family sssomewhere... But I don't love anyone."

"Hm..." mumbled Carlos to himself. "Well, we can't help you there right now. Sorry."

"Oh, it isss all right," replied Ingg as he laid more materials down on the now nearly-completed dam. "I guesss talking about it a little helpsss the fearsss..."

Tenessey shrugged as he mended things for the thousandth time. "I think it's just a matter of companionship," he said to this.

Confused, both Ingg and Carlos looked up to the nu mou. "Why do you say that?" asked the human curiously.

"I think people only get good things out of life by how they feel about those around them," replied the nu mou, taking a slight break from his work. "Especially early in your life. I don't know how it works myself, but I think one thing that makes a person truly happy is their relationships with other people around them. I guess... I say this from my experiences as a father, with a loving wife and one of the best children a father could ask for... And it makes me feel happy..."

There was a silence as the three worked at their section of the dam, and when they were done Carlos wiped the sweat off of his brow and stood up from the kneeling position he had assumed the entire conversation.

"Deep," he said. "And I think you're right."

"Indeed..." replied Ingg. "I sssay the sssame thing..."

Tenessey didn't reply to this, instead concentrating on his line of work as he silently soaked in the words of the conversation that had just passed.

* * *

The dam stood out rather oddly amongst the rest of the surrounding farmland. A diverted canal had rooted up into some non-farmland that was close by the river, creating a strange blue simmer out of how small the little canal was.

Tenessey, Carlos, and Ingg all looked at this sight, smiling at the handiwork that everybody had put into it.

"Ssso..." began Ingg. "Are you two going back to wherever?"

"Actually, I'm going to continue my quest for my brother," replied Carlos with a shrug as he turned to the bangaa.

"And I need to go find a clan to join on my way home to Cadoan," replied the nu mou.

"A clan?" asked Ingg. "Actually, sssir Tenesssey, I wasss going to asssk if you wanted to join my clan."

At this, the nu mou's expression instantly lit up, his eyes shining brightly as he heard the bangaa's question.

"Are you serious?" asked the alchemist, holding his hat to his chest as he heard this. "I would love to! I mean, you know, what with my family in tough financial times and whatnot."

Carlos looked between the bangaa and the nu mou before putting his hands on his hips. "But is he serious?" he asked.

"Of courssse," replied Ingg with a smile. "I'm no head of the clan I'm in, but I'm sssure the people that are won't mind if we let an alchemissst on board."

"Oh, Rowena will be thrilled to hear this!" exclaimed Tenessey eagerly. "I do hope we get to stop by Cadoan first!"

Ingg simply nodded to this. "If you want," he said.

"And I guess I'm going to search for my brother," said Carlos, shrugging as he pulled some of his black hair behind him.

Tenessey shrugged before putting a hand on the human's shoulder. "Well, I'm sure the clan would be willing to help you find your brother. I mean, after all, we're all in this together, right?"

Carlos's light brown eyes lit up a little as he shrugged. "I guess," he said. "Well, I'll think about it..."

"I think the better quessstion isss; can you fight?" asked Ingg.

"Oh, me?" asked Carlos. "Yeah, I can fight. I actually just started dabbling in paladin abilities..."

"Then come along," encouraged the red-scaled lizard man with a friendly smile. "We'll help you find... uh... what isss hisss name?"

"Oh, his name is Mauritz," replied the human, rubbing some of his hair as he said this. "Thanks!"

"You're welcome," said the bangaa. "Now, let'sss go home, ssshall we?"

Tenessey nodded in reply to this. "Yes, of course," he said. "And let's not forget we have to stop by Cadoan so I can let Rowena know about the news!"

"Of courssse!" replied the bangaa.

The small group of three turned around, and they headed in the direction of Cadoan as the sun set gloriously behind them.


	10. Le Gibet

Wow, I waited too long to get to this. Is this a sign of danger? I dunno. Maybe it has more to do with the fact that I'm trying to get used to playing on Baroque instruments than anything. I dunno, I'll be honest.

Anyhoos, last chapter we got introduced to Tenessey and Carlos. Carlos finds his brother soon enough, don't you worry (I mean, this is recruitment, how could we not?). As for Tenessey... Boy do I have plans for him! You'll see what I mean soon enough, so yeah.

But anyway, here's where we start to get the gloomiest one-shots in the collection. Granted, there is a great moment of epiphany in this one with one of the characters, but it comes after these incredibly gloomy, gloomy sections. Also, beware; this oneshot, and a few others with the character that's introduced here, start to use some very explicit language. Don't say I didn't warn you! The jagds are like that, what can I say?

And here's another sort of music prompt. It's going to be really odd writing two music prompts one after the other (you'll see what I mean soon enough), but I think that this oneshot corresponds with this one piece so damn well that I couldn't help myself. The piece is the second of Ravel's pieces in the virtuoso piano suite 'Gaspard de la Nuit'; Le Gibet. I'm not going to bother putting the symbols in for this oneshot, because really, the entire oneshot can relate to the piece. So here's a youtube link, and don't forget to take out the spaces! http ://www .youtube. com/ watch?v=K7NKYvnjJcs&feature=related

So without further ado let's meet our next character. In first person, of course!

* * *

Le Gibet

That damn chopping block is always there. I don't understand why it won't go away.

That alley has been the sight of many a bad memory. So why the fuck do I keep going back to it?

I dunno. I've seen too many people get killed by the executioner with a sword there. It's just... I dunno how to say it.

Then again, it could be that this is where my entire life has thrived. I was found by the chopping block. I played by the chopping block. I grew up next to the chopping block. And, only once, I've killed with the chopping block. I guess the chopping block is the only real friend that I can see, even if it brings back things I don't want to talk about.

Somebody just died here. That's probably why I'm here. The clans around here are usually very careful to hide bodies. Not like it matters; nobody tames anything around here. From what I hear, there are judges that go around the rest of the world. Not here. I haven't seen one yet, and until I do I won't believe those people. But they never wipe away the blood that's around the block. I've always wondered why they forget about that. But then again, I don't think anyone would care much about a chopping block in the middle of an alleyway. At least it's away from too many eyes.

I've been looking at this pool of blood for too long. I know death all to well; hell, it's my best friend. They say I'd be more cheerful if I had found somewhere else to live. Me? I don't think that would've changed a thing. Death would still be hounding me, even if I went to the worlds of the 'judges' or whatever those hotshots are called beyond here. I've never seen one, so I won't believe anything those idiots think.

Many of those people that have died here deserved it. Many were stuck up, and too many didn't do what we told them to. Bad move, especially if they went to a place like this. They must come from outside of here. I still don't believe that any judge person could make it so they were stuck up at all. I'll only believe it when I see it by myself.

But there's something at the back of my mind. I don't know if it's a memory or a scrap of what's left of my sick imagination, I'll leave that up to whatever I see with my own eyes. This chopping block killed two people a very long time ago. It's incredibly fuzzy; the two people were really short. Kind of like most of the people I know if they got shrunk by magic. But somehow, I can't help but feel that those two were important to me somehow.

Ah, whatever. They're just another two people taken by an axe and a chopping block. Like that poor fellow that was just here... What was his name?

I don't really know, and I'll be honest, I don't really give a shit. Just as long as I'm not there, it's all fine by me...

We've got bells here, but if there are people ringing them I've yet to hear them actually do it. They must've fallen victim to this chopping block, too, I guess. I wouldn't be surprised if they didnt.

Me? I'm a little too small to lift that axe. That's the only reason I've only killed one person with it. Trust me, I wouldv'e killed more, as there are too many people that try to kill me. But I can't lift the axe. Only way I killed that one person with this chopping block was because the axe had tossed in the air. I'm sure that the guy would've died without my help if he hadn't shoved it, and since I think in reflexes I grabbed it. The force of the axe was enough to flip me over and literally decapitate him just by being in the air.

I dunno. I've just lived my whole life by this chopping block I guess. It's... I said this before, so fuck it, I'm not gonna say it again. This is one messed up place, I can tell you all that much.

And there are some people fighting again. I know I should be angry that these fuckers won't stop fighting, but by this point I've just said, 'you know what, fuck it'. I don't care anymore. In fact, the only reason I'll care is if they go towards this chopping block...

...Which this guy in white robes was apparently stupid enough to do.

Or wait, no, it can't be stupidity. He's wounded. Too many cuts to count. Probably had a run-in with somebody. I don't care anymore.

But... wow, looks like the chopping block is unnecessary. His wounds will kill him in time. I just need to sit here and...

Wait, why's he getting close to me? I'm backing up against the chopping block now, but he's holding his hand out to me.

"Would you... would you leave a fellow person... to die... in this wasteland? I, when I have... no business... to hurt... you...?"

To this, I don't get any chance to reply before he slumps to the ground.

He's just lost consciousness, nothing more. He'll be dead sooner than this, anyhows. Of course I would've left him to die; they would've come after me.

But there's still something about him. If he didn't have any 'business' with me or whatever, why'd he come close to the chopping block?

I moved to the end of the alley where it opened out on the road, and when I looked all around me I found that he had chosen this place because he had nowhere else to go. There's fighting all around me, and it's these rather well-dressed, well-kept people versus those familiar faces that I've come to know so well.

All of a sudden... I don't feel anger towards this strange man.

I feel... Is this what people would call 'pity'?

Nah, that can't be it. It's just for one person, and it's supposed to be a good motion. I don't do good motions.

But still, I should get this guy's wounds treated.

Heh. Who'd've thought? The place where death is the king of the Jagd is also the place where a life is saved. What a twist. It's almost like somebody's severed head came back and said 'amen' over this place.

Wait...

This guy's a lizard, he's got white robes...

No way. There's no way in hell this guy's a priest...

Ah, whatever. The sooner I get done with these wounds, the better. And then I can just wait for him to come to and it'll all be good.

And I'm done. Those scraps of cloth I stole from that asshat of a group leader in this place sure came in handy. I hope there's no bread in his system, though...

Eh. It's so hard to believe that this place of death is now... well, a place of life. I don't think I can put it any other way. It's like those people that think they can just trot in here and expect to make everything right. Because they don't. That's the truth, and there's no backing away from that.

So the priest at my feet finally saw it fit to come up from his 'sleep'. It only took him about... what, three hours? I don't know.

"... Where...?" he asked.

"If ya think I did it for something good, you're wrong," I stated flatly as he sat up. "You should get out of here while it's clear. The fighting cleared up a long time ago.

I think I saw something flash in his eyes as he abruptly stiffened. I don't know what it was. Fear? Excitement? I don't know anymore. You'd think I'd know fear by now, but the truth is I really don't. So many things can occur to you when you're under that axe; I've seen as many people cry in fear as I have people that looked with a wierd... heroic... glint in their eyes and as many that have sobbed in sadness. It's really... I don't know how to put it.

"Oh, no..." said the priest as he stood up. "My clan may have left me here... I've got to go find them."

He stood up slowly, walking towards the exit to the alley. I just stood there, minding my own business.

I think this was where I made a mistake, because he turned to me with a confused look in his eyes.

"You're not coming?" he asked.

I simply shrugged as I shifted around.

"Why the fuck would I do that?" I asked.

The lizard turned around, looking at me.

"Well, you sssaved my life, yesss?" he asked with a bow. Pah, politeness is for snobs.

"I only did it because you fucking drilled it into my head that I'm a bad person!" I replied. "So I saved your life. What the fuck happens then?" I pointed to that damn chopping block behind me. "You know how many shitheads died there? So many died that I can't remember anymore. Eventually you'll be stuck here too!"

The lizard rose one of his... uh... I can't really call them... whatever...

"But sssurely you would have left me to die sssooner if that was the cassse, right?"

"Forget it!" I retorted, turning around without looking at him. "You people think you're such hot shit, living away from this... this dump! Ya know what? I want you to stay here for one night and see if I don't kill you first!"

There. That ought shut him up and send him running away. I didn't like him anyway.

"And you think that jussst becaussse we're holed away doesssn't mean we don't have our own problemsss?"

Damn it, he's still here. Guess I better give him a taste of what happens to people that fuck with me.

With this, I turn around, and then I point my gun straight at his heart. One shot, and he's fucking dead. That would make anybody afraid.

...

Why the fuck isn't this guy moving?

"You wouldn't shoot me with that," he said almost too calmly. "Your fassse showsss that you've pointed it at many and have never fired."

"...Because I never needed to!" Damn it, I hope he didn't catch the wait time that was in there...

"Wasss that hesssitation I notisssed?" asked the lizard.

Damn it. I can't do this anymore. He's won.

I lower the gun then. Maybe I'll shoot him in the foot when he least expects it. But... no, that wouldn't be as fun.

"You sssee?" asked the lizard. "You jussst need to let the good come out of you."

"Good?" I asked. I really hate this guy, I really do. But I'll play along for now if it' gonna get me out of here. Because, I've got a ton of questions that need to be answered.

"Yesss," replied the priest. "I can sssee the good in you. You may not sssay 'kupo' at the end of your wordsss, but there is ssstill good. Pleassse give me a chanssse to sssee that."

Pah. There is no good in me. What does this guy think he is, the king of Ivalice? Ah, well, I guess I better sucker up to him.

"Fine," I said. "But only because it means I can get the fuck away from this dump."

"Pleassse, I want no trouble," replied the priest. "And I do hope I can find the good in you. I'm Ocon, by the way."

"Nusratt," I said simply. This cocksucker doesn't know when to quit, really. I'm not saying it again.

I'll be honest; I don't know why I'm following him out. All I remember is the last glance I took at that damn chopping block as I left. I don't think I'll even miss it that much anyway; my life may have centered around it, but I never really liked it anyways. So I'm not gonna miss that piece of shit. At all.

I just hope my wings don't get stiff after living in their world for so long. Maybe the guys are right after all; there's more to this country that I haven't seen yet. But if this cocksucker is any kind of pointer, this world probably isn't much better than it is here. I just hope this guy doesn't get too full of himself while he 'works' on me.


	11. Circenses

All right, we're back!

Last chapter, we met Nusratt, probably the most foul-mouthed, uneducated, angry person that's going to appear in the entire anthology. You'll see what I mean as we go along. Essentially, Nusratt is... well, somebody who really stirs up anarchy in this clan.

And the wierd thing is, he's probably the closest I can get to what I concieved the various classes of the game as. I always looked at the gunner artwork as being incredibly gritty, so in this case Nusratt is a reflection of his concept art. Also, because there aren't enough gritty moogle characters out there. I think we all know where that leads.

So, remember last time where I had a music prompt? Well, _this_ oneshot is also a music prompt. Subject matter? Considerably different; instead of piano solo stuff about nostalgic feelings, we get a oneshot from an orchestral piece about a whole crapton of Christian martyrs being slaughtered over an organ chord. Yes, I talk about Respighi's _Feste Romane_, probably my favorite of all of the Rome trilogy tone poems and the most underplayed one (unfortunately). Here's the url, and as always, don't forget to remove the spaces and wait until I give the sign to play the music! http:// www. youtube. com/ watch? v=SfPEK9-S7ms&feature= channel_page (With Arturo Toscanini, one of the great legends of conducting at the helm!)

Also new here is that this is the first of the so-called 'collage'-shots. These are oneshots that take a look at certain aspects of people's relationships. In this case, it's a series of interactions that have been happening gradually. You'll see this model used quite frequently later, so look out for that!

And with that, let's get on to the oneshot, yes? Away, collage!

* * *

Circenses

Ocon always hated having to move anywhere near the stadium at Sprohm. That place was worse than hell if he could even imagine it coming to Ivalice.

But it was on this morning that he had to substitute for a healer at the stadium that had gotten injured. Everybody knew they could use more healers to heal the injuries of the gladiators that fought there, but Ocon was not looking forward to this shift one bit. He was often disgusted by the sight of blood and body parts being flung around, and to be honest that was what he was told would be seen. He also hated having to help the victor while the loser was dying; this brand of favoritism went against everything Ocon stood for, and despite this Marche had assigned him to this mission anyhow. And now, here he was, heading into the stadium itself, using all of his willpower to keep himself from getting utterly revolted at everything he knew he would see.

Taking a rather sharp intake of air as he entered the stadium, he stepped in. Almost instantly, the stench that hit him was enough to nearly cause him to vomit right then and there. Swallowing the bile that had gathered at his throat, Ocon continued, his jade eyes betraying his incredible fear of being in this place even when the rest of his body was perfectly calm.

Instantly, he was noticed by a rather aged viera who seemed to have worked in the stadium as a healer all her life. She did not say anything, however, instead preferring to point in the direction where the bangaa was supposed to go. With a polite bow of his head (had he leaned forward anymore, though, he would definitely have vomited), he moved on, wishing to be done with this place as soon as he could.

He then entered a room, where the stench spiked up considerably. It would not have been so bad if not for the fact that many wounded lay on makeshift cots, the healers making their rounds in the dark, torch-lit room as they made sure the victors were still alive. Some had died earlier, however, and now flies hovered around them, swooping down on their prey viciously as the healers skipped their cots. What was worse was the sheer amount of blood that was seen; there was blood on the walls, blood on the cots, blood on the warriors, blood on the ground...

The mere sight of it was enough to make Ocon lose his composure that he had fought so hard to maintain in the face of such a horrific sight. He doubled over, and he was barely able to turn his torso around before he had vomited all over a small patch of the cold stone floor. The vomit barely went noticed in the slight murmur of the room, and the stench of death would ensure that nobody would notice he had vomited until somebody stepped in the stomach juice.

Coughing slightly, the bangaa priest stood back up, the stench and the sight still getting to him as he took a couple of unwitting steps towards a cot without looking where he was going.

He felt a rough hand gently get a hold of his arm, however. This abruptly frightened the priest into whirling around, controlled by the firm yet surprisingly gentle grip of an older bangaa who was already acquiring wrinkles on his visage. The black scales on the bangaa were intimidating, but when Ocon saw the open wound in the gladiator's side his resolve strengthened.

Before the black bangaa could say anything, Ocon grabbed his staff. "I'll be right on it," he said simply. The priest then raised his staff, and as a soft red glow emanated from the orb at the head of it the black bangaa sighed in relief.

"Thanksss," he said softly. "Nobody ever getsss around to me anymore, kid."

Ocon was slightly surprised by this comment. "Why not?" he asked.

"'Caussse I'm gettin' old," he said.

"Hm..." said Ocon, thinking about his reply carefully. "How old, exactly?"

"I'm thirty," replied the black-scaled bangaa softly.

At this, the jade-scaled bangaa had to fight the urge to back away slowly. "Thirty?" he asked. "But... but that isss a prime age by bangaa ssstandardsss!"

"Well, in thisss arena thingsss are very different from out there..." replied the elder bangaa. "Here, you're lucky if you get to live passst forty..."

"But... still, that's terrible!" insisted Ocon. "How could people let things like this happen?"

"You learn to live with it, kid," replied the aging bangaa as he stood up. "You're new around here, aren't you?"

"Actually, I'm ssssubssstituting," replied the priest nervously. "By trade, I am a priessst..."

The elder bangaa shook his head morosely. "Oh, thisss isss no plassse for you to be, Father," replied the black-scaled bangaa as his aquamarine eyes looked at him sadly. "It isss no plassse for you at all."

The priest shrugged. "I'll be honessst," he said. "I'm not here entirey becaussse I want to..."

"Then why not leave?" offered the gladiator simply.

"Becaussse I'd be letting friendsss down if I did," replied the priest.

Ocon's green eyes met the blue orbs of the stranger he had just met, and when the black bangaa let out a mirthless chuckle, he knew he had done something wrong. However, he stayed rooted to the spot, almost as if he was trying to fulfill his own expectations on what this new person would be like. When he felt a hand patting his shoulder roughly, however, he knew he had left some kind of impression on him.

"I like you," said the gladiator simply, smiling a rather crooked smile at the priest. "You're ssstill pure. If I were you I'd get the hell outa here, but you... You've got ssstrength. You're ssstrong, and pure. And I like that."

The black bangaa extended his hand out in a friendly manner as he took his hand away from the priest's shoulder. "The name'sss Sssmyth," he said.

The monk looked over to the gladiator before gingerly taking this stranger's hand and shaking it sotly.

"Brother Ocon of the church of Ivalissse at your ssservissse," replied the younger bangaa nervously.

* * *

A few days later, the priest had been running around Sprohm taking care of errands for Nutsy when he had wandered around to the arena listlessly.

He saw the imposing structure with a strange hint of dread in his person. He really did not want to go anywhere near the arena again, and yet, ever since he had been inside there was a strange kind of awe that surrounded his being. Naturally, Ocon attempted to control it; he was not supposed to lust after worldly things according to the teachings of the Church of Ivalice, anyways. So far, he had not been having any problems doing so. After all, he was used to repelling his material needs at the monastery where he used to work for Father Baldi.

As he stood, looking agape at the arena, he suddenly felt a harsh slap on his shoulder. Greatly caught off guard the bangaa priest jumped back, sighing in relief when he saw the imposing figure of Smyth standing there.

"Oh, you ssscared me there, my ssson..." said Ocon, holding a hand to his chest.

"Your ssson?" asked Smyth with a chuckle. "I'm older than you are, and yet you're callin' me ssson..."

Ocon looked up, slightly embarrased. "It isss a tradition of the church, Sssmyth," replied the priest. "I call everybody 'my ssson'."

"I sssee..." said the gladiator as he began to move towards the arena. "Ssso, what're you here for now?"

"I'm jussst running errandsss for my clan," replied the priest. "I do hope thingsss have been better for you lately."

"After what you did for me?" asked the gladiator with that crooked smile of his. "Of courssse, kid. I'm fighting tomorrow, actually!"

The color from the scales on Ocon's face drained slightly as he heard this. "Y-you are...?" asked Ocon. "Why do you keep going back if you know you could die again?"

The gladiator simply patted the priest's shoulder softly as they moved. "Kid, one thing you gotta learn isss that usss typesss don't have it like you do," he sssaid. "I wasss left here asss a baby, and how did I grow? Fight, fight, fight. That, and the whorehoussse."

At the word 'whorehouse', the green-scaled bangaa literally froze in place. The older bangaa noticed this immediately, but before he could say anything the priest turned his head around.

"Whorehoussse?" he asked accusingly. "You... Why do you ssstay towardsss them? You know it isss a sssin to be with them!"

The black-scaled bangaa shook his head. "I don't sssee how people can sssay we're all sssinnersss if we do that," he said sincerely. "I don't sssee anything wrong with it."

"Well... It isss sssubmitting to the earth," replied Ocon uncertainly. "And if you do that... you ssseparate yourssself from God almighty. And that isss a sssin..."

Smyth chuckled mirthlessly before shrugging. "Don't give me all that religion ssstuff," he said. "I know you're a priessst, but sssome people don't get it sssometimesss..."

This explanation confused the monk a little bit, so he decided to drop the subject all together. "Ssso... You are part of the world?" he asked.

"I wouldn't be here if I wasssn't," he replied as they reached a secret entrance. "I'll be hoping to sssee your fassse at the fight tomorrow. Tell them you know me and you can get in free."

"Wait, what?" asked the bangaa priest. "But why would I go watch a fight?"

"You look like you wanna know," replied the gladiator. "Ssso I give you a chanssse. Come by tomorrow, and do asss I sssay, and you'll know..."

Before the priest could reply, the gladiator had already gone into his little abode, if one could even call it that. Sighing, Ocon turned away, realizing that Smyth was indeed right and he was a little curious. As he thought on this, however, he was essentially torn between his faith and his friend. And knowing how Smyth was, he was having a strong inclination towards his friend. Finally, he sighed before heading back to his room at the inn.

"God, forgive me, for I am about to sssin..." muttered the bangaa guiltily.

* * *

%^&^%

As the trumpets blared at the top of the arena the next day, the priest was already greatly regretting his decision to attend the games, even in his old white monk garb that nobody would recognize for a priest even if they looked hard enough. He just hoped Father Baldi was not in the same arena enjoying himself with displays of blood and violence.

Trumpet calls were all that Ocon was able to hear for several minutes, the sound annoying his ears a little due to how close to the top of the arena he was. Finally, however, the trumpet calls finally ended.

On the wide circle in which the arena proper was, Ocon spotted two warriors almost being thrown into the arena. He recognized one of them as being Smyth, although Ocon was sure from where he was sitting that the black bangaa would not see him in the crowd. He knew his friend should have gotten the right to see him, but the truth was that aside from his faith Ocon also had a fairly low tolerance for excessive blood. So he wanted to be outside right when the mayor of Sprohm gave one of the warriors the thumbs up to kill the other person.

And judging by how the black bangaa appeared to be snarling at the younger human man that had stepped opposite him in the arena, Ocon could tell that this thumbs up would come rather quickly.

The crowd's roar was even more deafening than the trumpets, if that was even possible with how loud they had blared their signals. And as the crowd was roaring, the two warriors ran at each other.

Their swords clashed violently, and their screaming rose above the clamor of the cheering crowd that was beginning to make Ocon sick. The fact that they genuinely enjoyed this form of entertainment disturbed the priest very much, but it was the sheer ferocity of the fighting that took him the most. The slashes by each warrior's blades were fierce; when the swords did not clang together, a streak of blood was seen flying onto the sand. The crowd tended to cheer especially loudly at these moments, but they came rarely, so thankfully Ocon was able to hold his act together.

But what truly struck the priest about the fight was the sheer intensity with which Smyth wielded his blade. The younger bangaa had noticed that Smyth had been aging much faster than any bangaa had the right to, but he never would have thought that he would fight with such a ferocious way of wielding the blade. More often than not, it was the elder bangaa who had been landing blows on the human, often with sword strikes so strong that the poor human had to use all of his strength just to keep the blade from flying out of his hand. This made the fight almost a pathetic sight to watch, even when the human managed to get a slash in on the older person's body with his weak body slashes.

As the fight wore on, it became clear that the human was going to lose horribly; the poor thing was getting more and more tired with each failed parry that he did due to his wounds and the fact that he was just too weak to face off against the lizard man. The bangaa was also merciless with his swipes, and even though it was clear he was the older combatant, he still had not lost his energy. The crowd cheered louder than ever, waiting for the blow that would decide the battle.

And finally, with a decisive blow, the bangaa had disarmed the human. The boy fell back from the sheer amount of force that went into the bangaa's attack to disarm him. Before the poor boy could even get his bearings, the bangaa had grabbed the back of his neck, holding his blade up and looking up to the mayor of Sprohm for further assistance.

_Oh, have mercy on his soul...._ thought Ocon as he sweated at the sight of seeing the male bangaa manhandle the poor wounded boy.

The mayor rose his thumb high in the air rather rapidly after letting the crowd cheer loudly to build up the tension. The instant this thumb was risen, the trumpets blared a fanfare again. The sheer amount of sound in the arena was far more deafening than Ocon was sure he could take, even as he covered his ears.

This would be nothing compared to what he saw after the trumpets finally stopped playing. The bangaa had thrust the human roughly on the sand of the arena, and then he proceeded to stab the poor boy in the back time and time again. This was bad enough, but every so often the bangaa would grab the boy by the neck and throw him to another part of the arena before jumping towards him and continuing the violent onslaught. The crowd went absolutely wild as the bangaa brutally, killed the poor boy, despite the cries of agony that where rapidly drowned out by the crowd.

After maybe around twenty seconds of this, the priest was not able to take it anymore. His green scales nearly drained of color from the horror, he could barely even scream as he ran outside, unnoticed by everybody but the trumpeters (and even they were too busy watching the savage killing to care). He was barely able to manage two steps out of the arena before he let himself vomit out his lunch.

* * *

"Are you kidding me, Sssmyth? I ssswear to God almighty, I'd rather kill myssself than go back in there."

"Oh, come on, Ocon! Can't take it when a guy killsss another? It wasss a good fight."

And much to his misfortune, Ocon had bumped straight into Smyth, who was on his way to the whorehouse to celebrate a fight well fought. The monk was not in the mood to converse with Smyth, and seeing how casually he was taking death sickened the priest even more than he already was.

"But it'sss a sssin!" shouted the younger bangaa, throwing his hands up in the air. "I can't believe you're taking thisss ssso well! And... and people were enjoying that! That poor boy was killed, Sssmyth!"

"He would'a killed me if I hadn't done it firssst..." replied the gladiator.

"That doesssn't matter!" replied the priest. "Why didn't you defy the mayor? Why?"

The gladiator shook his head as he walked past the priest. "Becaussse if I do, that'sss the end of my life. If I ssshow mersssy when he wantsss blood... well... itsss my blood that getsss ssspilled."

"I don't care what you sssay!" replied the priest. It was beginning to get obvious that the rage that Ocon had usually done such a good job of containing was beginning to show. "That wasss not right!"

The black bangaa shook his head, his rage slowly beginning to show. "You wouldn't get it," replied the gladiator. "The crowd'sss the only thing that I live for. If I fight what they want... Well... I'm done for."

"You don't underssstand either!" replied the priest. "It wasss wrong, can't you see that?"

Smyth simply turned to Ocon, the anger in his eyes apparent. "How wasss it wrong?" he asked. "I'm keeping my own life sssafe! Now if you'll let me be, I've got sssome thingsss to ssselebrate."

With this, the gladiator had turned to leave. However, the priest roughly grabbed the gladiator by the wrist, surprising him greatly as he turned him around. "Ssshut up!" replied the priest, finally being brought to the point where he was losing his temper. "He wasss only a boy! Why do you only care ssso much about yourssself? Why can't you--?"

"Becaussse nobody elssse doesss! You try living without anybody who caresss about your own behind! You think you know everything, don't you? The truth isss, you don't know ssshit about how it isss!"

As the black-scaled bangaa practically screamed at the priest, the green-scaled bangaa shrunk back, intimidated by the gladiator's yell. All around him, people had paused to watch this argument take place, some of them half expecting him to kill the priest. When he turned around, closing his blue eyes and sighing instead, he marched off. A dissapointed groan was emitted from the crowd as the gladiator walked away, not willing to say anything else.

It was not as if he needed to, anyhow. The words that the older bangaa had screamed at Ocon in irritation seemed to strike a chord in the priest. Could it be...

With his face pale in shock, the priest walked away from the arena, a strange kind of sadness glinting in his eyes as he pondered on those words carefully.

* * *

Two weeks had passed since Ocon had last seen Smyth. The fact that he was busy going to Jagd Dorsa to retrieve Nono's airship did not help much either, but the priest had mostly avoided the arena as a matter of choice.

And now, as he stood before the arena, a strange kind of apprehension filled his being. It was not the prospect of going back in there that was frightening, but rather of Smyth's reaction to seeing him again. They had not parted on very good terms the last time they had spoken to each other, and so the priest was nervous about what the gladiator would do.

As he thumbed over the gold coins in his hand, though, he also thought about his encounter with Nusratt. The gritty moogle was constantly saying he was bad, but there was something about how he saved Ocon's life that struck a major triad in Ocon's heart. This showed that the good was found in everybody. He had made it a point to return to the arena as soon as he knew what he could do to get Smyth out of there and into a brighter world where the stench of death was almost completely absent. Maybe if Smyth could be brought into the light of the lord...

Thinking of this, the priest stepped into the arena, instantly keeping his eyes out for anybody to purchase Smyth from. Ocon had been heavily dismayed to learn that the business of fighting was run sort of like slavery, especially when he learned that gladiators were bought by patrons, and the warriors had to do everything the patrons told them to do. However, the thoughts of what he planned to do once he purchased Smyth put him at ease, and he was sure God would forgive him for this one small sin he was about to partake in.

Thus, he gathered his courage and moved around, the thick musk of gladiators having expired filling his nostrils as he determinedly looked for the right person to talk to.

* * *

Ocon walked through the hallways inside the arena with a smile on his face. The papers that stated that he was now Smyth's owner were in his hands. It had taken a while to get Smyth's patrons, but Ocon was surprised by how willing they were to give the poor bangaa away. The priest had managed to buy Smyth for less than the price that he heard was usually offered for gladiators, and somehow this made Ocon happier.

When he arrived at the rooms where the gladiators slept, he found Smyth sitting at a tiny makeshift table. He was sharpening his sword nonchalantly, and there were scars in many places that had appeared during the two weeks that the priest had not seen him. Smiling softly, the priest stepped inside.

Smyth had not noticed the monk's presence until after he had stepped inside, and when he did he nodded.

"Oh, Ocon," said the black-scaled bangaa. "It'sss alwaysss good to sssee you."

"Ssso you're not angry over our lassst encounter?" asked Ocon as he sat across from the gladiator.

"Nah," replied the older lizardman with a dismissive wave of his arm. "You learn to ssstop being mad at everything after a year in thisss plassse. It doesssn't help you to be pisssed at anybody."

"Oh," said Ocon, and at once all of his fears were flying away from him, and his eyes shined in what little lighting there was under the arena. "I guesss you might want to sssee thisss..."

And with this, the bangaa priest put the papers down on the table for Smyth to read. The gladiator glanced up at Ocon briefly with an incredulous expression riding on his eyes.

"Are ya kidding me, Ocon?" asked the bangaa with a hint of being insulted in his voice. "I can't read!"

The priest gave the gladiator a puzzled look as he crossed his arms. "What do you mean, you can't read? Did they teach you how to read?"

"No!" replied the gladiator. "I jussst know that if people have papersss like thisss, they've jussst bought me. But why do you...?"

As the older bangaa looked to Ocon incredulously, the priest simply gave him a rather smug smile as he stood up. Realization flashed in Smyth's eyes as he stood up.

"I sssee..." he said, bowing down to the priest instantly. "Ssso what do you want me to do, massster?"

The priest was a little jilted by being referred to as master, but he managed to keep his head level. "Firssst, I want you to drop that 'massster' hullabaloo. It isss absssolutely ridiculousss. You are to refer to me asss 'Father Ocon' or 'Ocon' from now on, got it?"

The elder bangaa nodded. "Yesss, Father Ocon," he replied as he stood up.

"Sssecond, you are to come with me," said the priest as he walked out of the room.

"What?" asked Smyth, nearly dropping his blade in shock at what Ocon was asking him to do.

Ocon turned, emerald eyes showing a great deal of resolve. "You look like you want to know," he said. "Ssso why not come out into the light of the Lord and away from thisss plassse of darkness?"

Smyth blinked, and despite the gladiator's worn, weathered, and wrinkled face, he still managed to look absolutely perplexed. At this, Ocon had a tought time fighting back a chuckle, but he held it in.

"Well..." began Smyth with a shrug. "It'sss not that I don't want to know. It'sss jussst... if I leave thisss plassse for good, I can't come back... And... And what do I do then?"

The priest stepped back into the room, setting his hands on Smyth's shoulders before looking into the azure eyes of his gladiator. He saw the fear that was eminent in the gladiator's eyes, and he regarded this with a nod.

"You are to ssstay asss clossse to me asss you want," replied the priest thoughtfully. "Call yourssself a bodyguard if you will. But asss long asss I am alive, you are not going back to thisss plassse, and you are going to ssstay by my ssside. You've ecksssperiensssed hell here; I think it'sss time sssomebody got me out of it."

Here, the priest let go of the older bangaa's shoulders. He left the gladiator standing there, completely shocked by this revelation as the priest began to exit the room. With a great deal of hesistation in his step, Smyth followed the priest, apprehension in his figure as he walked.


	12. Party

Yep, we're back again.

Last time, we met Smyth, who is a Gladiator (both in name and in class) who kicks ass. Although, he probably won't get used to the judges since he's so used to killing everything he sees... But anyhows, yeah, he becomes a bit of a focal point as he's uneducated except in fighting and he's pretty much got skewed ideas of everything around him. Of course, this impacts him greatly, and it'll really take a while to figure everything out for him...

Now, moving on to other developments, where we get another human character. And we've already met him! Remember Nikolai from the _Scherzo (Mendelssohn) _oneshot? Well, here he is again, and he now plays a much more prominent role than before. What is this, you may ask? Read on and find out, my good friends! Let's go over to the _Carlos' Day_ mission now, and have some non-classical-composer related fun!

* * *

Party

Evor loved to take on juggling gigs, even if he was mainly a fighte on the front lines of Clan Nutsy. He still loved to juggle intensely, and after a while performing juggling acts with plates to impress the tenants at the inn in Cyril or Sprohm or whatever town he happened to be in started to become rather stale. Especially when some of the nastier tenants had tried to throw his act off by tossing gold coins at his face; he hated it when people did that.

So when Marche had come to him personally with a gig to perform at the birthday of the young Carlos, the son of the Grand Duke of Cyril, the moogle could not say no at all. It was close by, Nero would be by his side, he would be paid well, and best of all was that he would be handling knives for some of his routines. There was a music routine which did require a few rehearsals, but the moogle was sure he could do it.

The moogle could not possibly have been more excited by any train of events. Even as he and Nero sat in the room that the duke had given them for the next few days, the juggler was still brimming with excitement. He was so excited that he was practicing his knife act in his room with his twin brother watching.

"Are you sure that the knife thing is such a good idea, kupo?" asked the mog knight as he sat on the bed.

The juggler's concentration was not sidetracked by this question; by now, the juggler had gotten used to juggling items during a conversation without losing focus on anything. "Oh, of course, kupo!" replied Evor jubilantly. "I just hope that sir Carlos takes to it, kupo!"

Nero watched the knives as Evor enticed them into a precarious dance in the air above his head. "I dunno..." he said. "With you handling these knives the way you do, kupo, I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't find this cool..."

"I dunno..." said the juggler in reply as he continued juggling the knives. "I hear there are some that think this isn't in, 'good taste' or some other kupo thing..."

The mog knight shrugged, closing his scarlet eyes as he sighed. "I dunno, kupo," he said. "The things you get yourself involved in..."

"Oh, come on, kupo!" said the juggler. "It's all gonna be okay, right? Don't be such a worrykupo!"

The other twin looked to Evor and shrugged. "Well, kupo, I can't help myself, you know?"

"I've been doing this for years!" replied the juggler as the dance with the knives stopped slowly. "Come on, Nero, you gotta kupo up! It'll all be cool! And I'll impress the kupo boy somehow!"

The twin moogle sighed before nodding. "Okay, kupo," replied Nero uncertainly. "But if this gets messed up, you know where that's going."

Evor smirked, the light dancing around his ruby eyes as he looked up and began practicing his jumping all around the bed.

* * *

The juggler was in the great hall the next day, practicing his act once through without music. The musicians were only just arriving to set up their instruments; one person on a viola da gamba was already warming up, adjusting the instrument in between his knees as needed. A few others were already preparing, as a harpsichord stood behind the gamba player ready to have its keys touched.

Some of the musicians were busy looking at Evor's impeccable form, however. They were quite thankful their small ensemble was quite a distance away from the moogle; they feared that if they had come any closer the knives would sever the reeds or strings or wood or even the harpsichord lid.

The small moogle was busy juggling when the door opened. It was no small thing at first; after all, it was the same door that all of the musicians had gone in through. However, when the moogle noticed that the person had essentially stopped in the middle, he knew right then things were going to go wrong.

Thankfully, they did not go as wrong as the moogle would have thought. When Evor recognized the face, he got thrown off. Thankfully, he had the sense to toss his knives straight up where they would fall around him without actually doing anything, so they clattered harmlessly to the floor. The musicians sighed in relief as the knives all clattered to the floor. The man who had just entered ran straight over to the juggler, setting a lute case down as he walked over and leaned over the juggler.

"Whoa, Evor, are you okay there?" asked the stranger.

"Nikolai?" asked the moogle as he sat up. "What're you doing here, kupo?"

The illusionist-lutanist rubbed his head. "I took this job up," he replied, taking his hat off. "Continuo playing means you can get far too many lute jobs than what is truly comfortable for yourself. I'm starting to think I never studied to be an illusionist!"

Evor simply shrugged and stood back up. "That's okay, kupo..." said the moogle. "Shouldn't you be warming up, kupo?"

"Of course, but I thought I might say hello first," replied the lutanist as he picked his lute case back up. "You want to sit around and chat after our rehearsal, or...?"

"Sure, kupo!" replied the moogle. "I'm looking forward to stories, kupo!"

The human nodded, and when the other musicians began pelting him with questions about how he knew the juggler the young man he knew things were going to be quite different about this particular performance as opposed to others.

* * *

Later, after the musicians and the juggler had practiced together, the lutanist had managed to catch up with Evor as he was heading out.

"Hey, kupo!" replied the moogle.

"Hello, Evor," replied the noble man as Evor jumped onto his shoulder. "How have you been lately?"

"Oh, I've been just great, kupo!" replied the moogle. "Nero and I joined a clan!"

The illusionist looked over at this, brushing some bright red hair out of his face as he heard this. "Really?" he asked. "Simply wonderful, if I do say so myself! I am still struggling to get into a clan."

"Really, kupo?" asked Evor.

"Unfortunately," replied Nikolai with a shrug. "It is these things that sometimes cause me to curse my royal blood straight to hell..."

Evor shook his head a little gloomily. "Oh, no, kupo! Don't say that! You know you'll love that one of these days, kupo!"

The lutanist shook his head. "That 'one of these days' has yet to come, I'm afraid," he said. "In the meantime, I'm left wondering if I want an eight-course lute or a fifteen-course lute."

Slightly confused by this last anecdote, the moogle shrugged softly. "But you still have your family, yes, kupo?"

"Well, I do, but after a while you do tend to tire of all of the gatherings that occur at the court of Ivalice," replied Nikolai with a shrug. "I need more adventure in my life, if you know what I mean."

Evor shook his head at Nikolai's almost typical rant on how everything in Ivalice's court life was starting to become more of the same. "Well, kupo, who knows?" asked the moogle with a shrug.

Nikolai rubbed his chin softly, and then looked over to his friend. "Actually, this clan of yours..." he said. "Do you think it has a few vacancies?"

The juggler rose his eyebrows, but his eyes lit up when he realized what this could mean for them both. "Well, I don't know, kupo," replied the moogle. "But I can look into it!"

"Would you be so kind?" asked the noble.

"Of course, kupo!" replied the juggler, patting the lutanist's shoulder. "Anything for a friend, kupo!"

Right as they approached the room where Evor was staying, however, the other moogle twin came out. Upon seeing the human, he spazzed out and jumped onto the human.

"Niki!" exclaimed Nero excitedly with the pet name he had given to the human. "It's so awesome to see you again, kupo!"

"Nero, you are here as well?" he asked as he looked down to the mog knight. "I never would have guessed!"

The two moogle twins then jumped off of the human lutanist, and then they both pointed to their rooms. "Wanna come in, kupo?" asked Nero inquisitively.

Nikolai shrugged, taking the opportunity to get more of his ridiculously long red hair out of his face. "Why not?" he said. "I do hope you have some stories for me..."

And the nobleman entered the moogles' room, where the three of them then talked about what had happened to them just before the birthday of Carlos, Archduke of Cyril.

* * *

The next day was the party for Carlos. Already, things looked like they would get out of hand rather easily; despite the fact that Carlos was supposedly the best trained noble, he was quite a control freak. He was loud, obnoxious, and so difficult to impress that Evor was even more nervous than he really should have been. Nikolai was right behind him, the musicians all holding their instruments and sheet music as the lutanist bent down to Evor's level.

"I never knew Carlos was such a perfectionist," he muttered.

"I didn't either, kupo!" exclaimed the moogle. "I hope Nero's watching. That's the only thing that's gonna make sure I do this right, kupo..."

"He will be," replied the illusionist. "Just smile and I am sure everything will work out."

It was then that the door that was in front of them opened. Gulping nervously, the juggler walked out to an applauding audience. However, as the applause died down and he readied his knives, leaving two on a small table and preparing one on his foot and one in his hand, the audience went right back to talking, except for Carlos.

Only then did Evor feel the true burn of the noble boy. He looked to be no older than nine years old, and yet his gaze was much nastier than Smyth or even Nusratt were able to muster when they disliked the pranks that Evor liked to pull with Nero and Salsber. The small, youthful eyes penetrated his very soul, and for a brief second Evor was paralyzed with fear.

However, he simply took a deep intake of air, the murmur of the crowd softening this, and thinking about the more receptive audiences in Cadoan, he nodded to the small orchestra. Nikolai, taking a cue, readied his lute, nodding to the small orchestra consisting of three violins, one viola da gamba, a traverso, Nikolai, and a harpsichord. Setting the beat to a rather lively gigue with a few nods, Nikolai cued the orchestra in, and the act had begun.

It began with a simple throwing of the knive from the foot so that the foot would catch the knife repeatedly. As the musicians played on, Evor began to twirl the other knife in his hand. Despite a small flaw in his fingerwork that thankfully was noticeable only to the ones who truly scrutinized much, the moogle was still a little nervous, and the only reason he continued with his routine was because of the pulse of the music to the side of him.

After twirling the knife in his hand for what felt like forever, he sent that knife spinning into the air. He then jumped around a bit, being careful to still keep the knive he was throwing with his foot a distance that would not result in him stabbing himself in the foot. Through some odd manouvering of this, the juggler had switched the foot on which the second knife had been being tossed, and the knife that was sent flying up into the air was then caught by Evor's other hand. As this occurred, the first half of the gigue had ended, and the musicians went back to the beginning of the gigue and played the first half again.

Evor began the repeat of the first half with essentially the same moves, only on different feet and hands. This time, one was also able to notice that he was edging closer to the table that was propped there for the two knives that he had placed there. As the second pass of the first half of the gigue reached its end, the moogle threw both knives at a reasonably high distance before jumping onto the table. He then stepped on the blades of the knives on the table, and since the blades had been hanging over the edge of the table the knives were propelled upwards.

Thankfully, by this time, Evor had gotten used to Carlos' cold stare as the murmur around him sort of died down, replaced with a strange brand of quiet awe as the moogle continued his act. This was good for the moogle, as the most difficult part of the routine was coming up right as two of the knives landed in his hands, where he then twirled them around as the knives that were still in the air plummetted towards him ominously.

As the second half of the gigue began, the juggler then began a rather complex set of manouvers. Usually all four knives were up in the air in a rather large arc, and on every beat of the gigue the juggler had managed to hit each knife by the handle with either a hand or a foot so that the knives would stay in the air for quite some time. This kind of interplay went a while, and Evor felt the gaze of Carlos begin to soften, with a new kind of playful atmosphere taking over. This went on for quite some time, finally coming to a halt as the first pass of the second half of the gigue ended.

When the second pass began, the juggler then grabbed one of the knives by the blade, and all three of the knives still in the air were then bounced towards the knife that Evor held. The knife then acted as a sort of spring on which the other knives would bounce off, all of them going at an angle that would return most of them to his opposite foot or hand.

This part of the routine was not so difficult; Evor knew that he had aced the most difficult part for him, and so he knew he was going to be in good hands. After a while, he set the knife he had been holding down on the small table the other three still in the air. After this, he did standard knife-juggling fare for essentially the rest of the gigue, catching two knives in one hand and one in the other. He was still close to the table when it ended, so as the music slowed to its final cadence, the juggler stood on one leg and lightly placed the knife on the table as the last chord was held.

The young Carlos of Cyril seemed quite pleased with this, and he applauded with a smile on his face. The moogle sighed in relief, taking his bows as the rest of the small audience followed quite soon after.

* * *

"That was quite... well... amazing for being under such pressure."

"Aw, thanks, kupo! I thought your lute playing was awesome too, kupo!"

Nikolai and Evor had gotten together after the party. The juggler was thankful he was only doing one thing in the show; the lutanist, however, had to stay on to do some more continuo work for a dance suite that the Duke had commissioned for the event. Now, the two of them were sitting in the room, where Nero was busy packing everything.

"Thank you..." he said nervously. "I do think I realized some chords a little too in detail, yes?"

Evor, not sure of what the noble was saying, nodded and shrugged. "I guess, kupo," he replied. "So, kupo, you want to come with us? I'm sure they wouldn't mind if you came in, kupo."

The noble nodded. "I do hope things are all right, however..." he said. "I heard that Clan Nutsy, as you so call it, has a bounty on their heads from the palace."

Evor and Nero both turned their heads to the illusionist, shock written all over their faces. "What?" they cried, the both of them quite surprised at this. "That's true, kupo?"

"Unfortunately," replied Nikolai. "The palace says it is because of a series of laws that they have broken. My family thinks otherwise; they say it is because Prince Mewt has something against Marche Raidiju, leader of Nutsy."

"Well, but kupo, why do you want to join us if you'll get outa kupo with them?" asked Nero as he set down one of Evor's hats.

Nikolai shook his head. "The other clans will not accept me for reasons I already mentioned," replied Nikolai with an air of certainty. "My family is also the great House of Inverness; if something happens to the Royal Family, my family is next in line to take the throne. Or have you forgotten that already?"

"No, kupo!" replied Evor as he jumped up. "But wouldn't that just be kupopo for your family?"

"Well, they are the House of Inverness," he replied. "They have enough power to be able to hide this fact until Judgemaster Cid finds the clan. They would resort to means I would not approve of, but at this stage, I honestly think that the palace has engaged in more wrongs with the birth of Prince Mewt than anything the House of Inverness has done in the three hundred years that Ivalice has been a nation."

Nero looked at the ceiling, then the floor, then back at Nikolai before coming forward, jumping on the bed. "But, kupo..."

"There is also the fact that I... well... I told you this during our third year at the Cadoan Academy," replied Nikolai in one of his rare moments of discomposure. "Something like this was bound to happen eventually; I would have preferred it sooner than later anyways."

The moogles looked to each other, scarlet eyes laced in concern for their human friend. The moogles then looked at Nikolai.

"Well, okay, kupo," said Evor in slight defeat, looking at the emerald eyes of Nikolai. "But if anything unkupo happens, then you're going straight back home, you hear, kupo?"

The noble nodded in understanding. "All right, then," he said. "I shall meet you in twenty minutes outside of your door, then."

The musician exited the room shortly afterwards. He then rushed to his room, knowing that he too still had packing to do and that he would have to send a note to his parents explaining the reason why he was not going to return home. His parents would be worried for him, no doubt, but he had enough paper to be able to write several notes of significance to his family every so often. He only hoped the clan life was not as disgraceful as was generally depicted by the upper classes.


	13. Repayment

Okay, things are getting rather crazy. I'm in Upstate New York right now on a very busy schedule, so apologies if some of these entries sound rushed.

Anyways, we met Nikolai in greater detail last time, and we actually found out that he's in the House of Inverness, the family that's to take the throne if the House of Randell ever should die out. I think we all know what happens after Marche goes home...

And other than that, he's a lutanist. So, what does this mean? Well, first, let me explain how I view Ivalice's higher culture. Since they're fighting with swords, guns, and magic, I would place them culturally around the Baroque period. I know, Medieval period is more correct, but I glean this also from the architecture of the buildings and the design of the clothes of the royal family in the game. Yes, I am that much of a nerd. So musically, I place it around the mid-late Baroque period. And what does this mean? Drastically different instruments. Hence, why Nikolai plays the lute. And also, it means that the royals are ridiculously elegant. Granted, one of the characters I introduce is a bit of a Marxist, but... well, you'll see how the far left plays into this soon enough.

Why do I say this? Well, having been in a Baroque Performance Institute that ended last week (at the time that I wrote this A/N, anyways), I can say I know quite a bit about how proper Baroque performance practice goes. So, what's the summarized lowdown? Recorder was considered a perfectly serious instrument, the flute as we know it was still made of wood and still called the _traverso_, oboes and bassoons had a smaller range than they do now and do not have metal keys, trumpets didn't have valves, timpani took a long time to tune, horns and trombones were unheard of in the orchestra, the tuba didn't even exist yet, the piano was only just invented and was still named the _fortepiano_, violins, violas, and cellos were still using Baroque bows and there were small groups of them in the Baroque orchestra, viola da gamba and harpsichord were still widely used, and the chalumeau, ancestor of the clarinet, had just been invented. Oh, and expect to hear the term 'basso continuo' quite a bit. (And yes, there is such a thing as Baroque harp, but it's exceptionally rare to hear one.)

So, yeah, after that... Let's make a political statement, yes?

* * *

Repayment

The royal House of Randell had ordered the judges to search for Marche Raidiju. People's homes were being invaded, people's livelihoods were being destroyed, and everything was going downhill. All for the sake of finding one boy who had offended that brat prince Mewt.

Agatha was not pleased in any sense of the word. The teenage viera was sitting in her house in Muscadet, gripping her bow where it lay on the rather simple table as she eyed her older sister Sesily with a displeased look in her amethyst orbs.

"This is ridiculous!" cried the younger viera sibling. "They're intruding on our rights, and for one stupid little boy that I could really care less about!"

"I totally agree, Agatha," replied Sesily softly as she looked outside of the door of their small house. "And what's worse is supposedly the judges are stopping by here today..."

Agatha ran a hand through her hair, shaking it as she looked up. "It's just not fair," she said. "What's worse is that the Judgemaster is actually authorizing it! I thought he was supposed to protect our rights, not dig into them on the request of some spoiled brat!"

Sesily shook her head. "It's what we get when the Judgemaster is supposed to be the king of Ivalice, I suppose..." she said wryly, her own amber eyes flashing in disgust for a brief second.

"That's true," replied Agatha. "But that's not an excuse! Lately they've been running the country completely wrong! They keep on changing the laws at a whim, they keep on adding more laws... I mean, this is getting ridiculous!"

The younger viera put her hands on her face and shook her head, groaning in annoyance as she walked over to the wall, leaning against it and looking away from Sesily. "I hope Chita's all right..."

"Knowing him, he should be fine," replied Sesily uncertainly. "I mean, he gets out of trouble quite frequently, you know..."

Agatha shrugged. "I guess that's why I love him so much," she said. "He's good at that. But still he should've been here by now..."

The older viera stood up and moved to the door, holding it as she pulled at her simple dress. "You want to go outside, then?" she asked. "Maybe we should go see where he is."

Agatha shrugged, quickly putting on some shoes as she moved to the door. "Sure," she said. "Just don't forget to turn the kerosene lamp off. As far as I know, when the laws are involved you don't want to leave the kerosene on..."

Taking this in mind, the older viera went over to the kerosene lamp that lay on the small table and blew it out quickly. The small house was then bathed in darkness once again. The two vieras then exited the house without another word, Agatha taking a final glance inside before closing the door and walking over to the center of Muscadet close behind her sister.

No sooner had they gone two paces away from their modest home when suddenly they came upon a scene that made Agatha tense in anger and Sesily gaze on in horror. Throughout the town, they saw many judges and many palace guards herding people around the small viera city of Muscadet. The poor villagers were being herded like cattle around the city, being asked questions by the judge and roughly tossed aside when they got answers they either did not want or were perfectly satisfied with.

"My..." said Sesily, unable to say much else out of shock.

"I expected people to be searched without warrants, but this?" asked Agatha, shaking her head in anger. "This is worse than even that!"

And before much else could be said, a rather short bangaa male was seen. His bright red scales seemed to shimmer in the sunlight as he was roughly tossed about by various guards. This bore no good for the guards, because said bangaa was only wearing pants

"Oh my God..." whispered Agatha, a hush coming over her in her range. "Chita! They've got Chita!"

As the bangaa was tossed around, Sesily suddenly noticed that this was in fact true. "They do!" she said.

"And look at what they're doing to him!" shouted Agatha. "They've got no right to do that!"

Before the younger and more zealous viera could come forward to defend her boyfriend, however, her sister grabbed her arm roughly.

"Agatha, wait!" said the sister sternly. "I can't have you wondering in there!"

"While my boyfriend is being opressed?" asked the younger viera passionately. "I can't just sit here!"

"Agatha, I don't know what I would do if you took it too far with these people!" exclaimed Sesily, quite concerned for her sister's safety. "Think about it for a second!"

Agatha simply shook her head in defiance, shaking her arm free from her sister's grip. "I can't just sit here while he's being opressed and expect everything to be okay!" she exclaimed. "I've gotta do something, even if I get tried for it!"

And with that, the younger viera turned and rushed straight to the judge that was interrogating the male bangaa at the moment. Sesily did not bother to follow close behind, as she knew terrible things would happen and it would surely teach Agatha a lesson.

The viera then walked down to where a judge in the standard rusted silver armor stood in front of Chita. The red-scaled bangaa did not look to be amused, as he was being held fast by two templars. The judge looked down condescendingly on Chita, but before he could ask anything Agatha burst onto the scene.

"Hey!" shouted the woman loudly, attracting both of their attentions. "Leave him alone! He's innocent!"

The judge eyed the young viera as Chita began gesturing to her to get out of there. "Madam, I must ask you to stand back as this is none of your business," replied the judge sternly.

"Now look here!" shouted Agatha, pointing at the ground. "What the hell are you doing this for? This is infringing on people's rights to be themselves!"

The judge looked down at the viera sternly. "Madam, I must ask that you keep quiet. Marche Raidiju is dangerous, and if he is allowed to roam free then the very world itself may end," he said. "And if we must infringe on people's rights to ensure the fabric of this world is kept safe, then so be it."

"No!" cried Agatha. "I will not be--!"

And before she could say much else, the guards had seized her, Chita getting quite concerned as he looked at his girlfriend but unable to do much in his own compromising position. He struggled slightly, but he knew as well as Agatha that it was futile.

"Woman, I can have you tried for sedition if we do not find this Marche character!" replied the judge. "Guards, take her a-!"

"Wait! Leave them alone! I'm the one you want!"

Instantly, all heads darted straight for the source of the sound; a young blonde boy was seen, his fists clenched in front of him as he looked down at the scene before him. The judge that had been interrogating Chita looked over to the young boy, looking him over.

"My liege," said one of the guards holding Agatha. "That boy matches the description given by the palace!"

"I can see that," replied the judge. "Guards, drop everybody you have now. All charges against them are dropped. Now, get that boy!"

And just as instantly, the guards had let go of Chita and Agatha, and they all rushed to arrest the boy who had turned himself in. Slowly, the judge turned towards the two people he had just been interrogating.

"You two should get out of here," he said. "Things will get ugly soon. And, madam, if you ever dare to speak out against what we can or cannot do, I can assure you that you will be living in Sprohm for a few years."

With this, he turned to watch as the boy somehow fought off the guards coming towards him. Chita pulled his girlfriend aside, and before they had travelled far he had slapped her roughly.

"What the hell wasss that for, Agatha?" asked the bangaa sternly. "You could have gotten yourssself tried and killed!"

"I couldn't care less!" she replied, rubbing her cheek. "I wasn't going to stand by while you and many others were being interrogated unjustly!"

Chita shook his head. "I know how you feel about thessse thingsss," replied the bangaa. "But you need to learn that there are timesss where ssspeaking out againssst them isssn't going to do you any good! And thisss wasssn't one of them!"

"I know that, but you were in danger!" shouted Agatha. "I wasn't going to let them just have their way without saying something! I care for you too much to care about any of that!"

Chita nodded, and then he pulled Agatha into a hug. "I know, dear..." he said. "But I ssstill wouldn't know what to do with myssself if you let yourssself get caught by thessse guysss. I am jussst thankful that Marche kid sssaved your life..."

Agatha nodded. "I heard he had a clan..."

The bangaa shrugged, breaking away from the hug slowly. "I wonder how that'sss going to work... Will they disssband it, or...?"

The viera shook her head. "I doubt it," she replied. "I hear that somebody from the House of Inverness is there, so they might get legal protection. Which is one of the many great things about the House of Inverness! I wish it was ruling Ivalice instead of that damn House of Randell!"

Chita simply nodded, rolling her eyes and chuckling a little. "With thisss Marche kid, I'm sssure that isss what will happen."

The viera nodded, thinking about something briefly. "Say, Chita..." she said. "You know how Sesily and I were considering joining a clan?"

The bangaa was quite sharp, so he understood what his girlfriend was insinuating the instant the lips left her mouth. "You're thinking of joining them asss a sssort of thank you?"

"Why not?" asked the viera as she turned around. "I mean, we'll all have to relocate to Cyril, but... well..."

The bangaa wrapped his arms around the viera's slim waist, his head resting on her shoulders. "Oh, come on, Agatha!" he said, pouting playfully. "You know I'll sssupport your desssisssions, even if I can't fight what with my leg problemsss..."

Agatha was slighlty surprised, but nevertheless the embrace was quite welcome. "Thanks, Chita," she said. "You want to get Sesily and start heading to Cyril?"

"Sssure..." said Chita. "Come on."

And then the viera moved first, Chita following behind with a fairly pronounced limp as he followed behind her.

* * *

A few days later, when the group arrived at Cyril, they found the whole town abuzz with activity. People were excitedly going about, chattering like there was no tomorrow.

"What's the rush?" asked Sesily as the three of them walked into town.

"I dunno," replied Agatha.

"Ssseemsss to me like they're quite exsssited about sssomething..." said Chita, scratching his chin in thought. "Come on, let's go find his inn where Clan Nutsy is supposed to be..."

* * *

After around half an hour of aimlessly wandering around the small town of Cyril, the small group of three finally found the inn that Nutsy was supposed to be in. To their great surprise, however, the kid that Agatha had identified as Marche was standing in front of the inn, almost as if waiting for somebody to come over. Quite shocked at this, Agatha rushed forward, and a flicker of recognition seemed to flash over the boy's eyes as he looked at the viera.

"Hey, aren't you that kid that broke up the search in Muscadet?" asked the viera.

"Yeah," said the young boy. "What's up?"

"Wait, I thought you'd be going to jail after that whole debacle!" she exclaimed as Sesily and Chita came up behind her. "I mean, the prince hates you, so I'd think that the judgemaster would just follow along!"

The boy shook his head. "I suppose you haven't heard yet," he said simply. "The judgemaster split from the palace."

Agatha and Sesily both looked at the boy incredulously as Chita tried to lean towards him but found it impossible due to to his bad leg. "They did?" asked Sesily, her voice ridden with shock.

"Yeah," said Marche. "Judgemaster Cid realized a few things, and... well, here we are, with judges being a little more fair."

The younger viera was suddenly quite elated at this, and despite the huge load on her back she lept up. "Finally!" she exclaimed. "I've been waiting for that bloody judgemaster to split from the palace already! That spoiled brat Mewt needs a lesson in humility, I tell you!"

A pang of guilt seemed to flash through Marche's being as he nodded. "Yeah," he said. "So, what are you guys here for."

"Oh!" said Chita, coming forward. "You sssaved usss when you broke up the sssearch in Mussscadet."

"And I thought, well, since my sister does magic and I can use a bow, I figured we might be able to help your clan as a small kind of repayment for what you did," added Agatha as she bowed down.

The human rubbed his chin in thought. "And the bangaa?" he asked.

"Oh, I can't do much..." replied Chita. "My leg isss bad, you sssee..."

Marche nodded thoughtfully. "Well, we've got a few vacancies in the clan, so I don't see why not..."

"So, is that a 'yes'?" asked Sesily, not able to help the slight tone of nervousness in her voice.

"Sure," said Marche. "And he can stay with you girls so log as he doesn't get in the way of anything."

"Oh, thank you!" said Sesily and Agatha, both of them bowing down to Marche politely.

"And don't worry!" added Chita. "I may be lame, but I'm usssually good about ssstaying away from thingsss when I'm not needed."

"Right," said Marche. "Let's get you settled into the inn here, then."

And with this, the human entered the inn, and just like that Agatha and Sesily were admitted into Clan Nutsy.


	14. Found

Okay, so last time we met Sesily and Agatha. Sesily... is essentially one of those characters that I have in there just for the sake of being there.

As for Agatha? Well, if it's even possible she's the radical political commentator. Thankfully, she is nowhere near as stupid as a certain Ann Coulter, so things will be good with her. So yeah, this will be our hub for political views.

And with this... Well, what can I say? I only have three characters left to introduce. This means that the first part of Nutsy will be over soon! I can't believe it!

And, actually, I think I should impart a word of knowledge about this oneshot; this oneshot here is going to be the first of the 'Jagd Hunt' oneshots. What's the Jagd Hunt referring to? It's referring to an original event in the Nutsy storyline where the clan gets stuck in Jagd Helje for a period lasting three days. Not much is talked about it now, but I plan a sort of 'Cronica de una Muerta Anunciada' kind of story development where I repeatedly come back to these events during the parts of Nutsy in which it is relevant. So, the abrupt ending of this oneshot is to kind of give me more material to work with for later oneshots. And yes, we get the one fatality in Nutsy during the Jagd Hunt storyline. If you have an inkling of who it is, please don't spoil it in a review.

So I'll have to start thinking of plot-related prompts. Which, given the bizarre plot of the game, shouldn't be too hard. Anyways, let's introduce two of our three last characters and call it a day, yes?

* * *

Found

Julian ran through the streets of Jagd Helje, ducking into an alley as soon as he could and panting with his back against the wall.

The grey-scaled bangaa's back was against the wall of the very decrepit building. He was in great shock, and he kept on telling himself over and over again that everything was going to be all right despite the fact that nothing had been going right so far in their trip.

It was supposed to be simple. Somebody had started a murder spree in Jagd Helje. While most people normally would not care, it turned out that Jagd Helje was too close to Sprohm for comfort. And that was what spurred Judgemaster Cid to send a few clans in there. They all went in at different times, but they were supposed to have met in the town square to figure things out.

It was too bad that somehow, there was an ambush waiting for Julian's clan.

The bangaa had barely gotten out of the ambush alive; he was now bleeding from too many cuts to count and he had forced himself to keep running. He pulled at his defender armor as he thought of seeing his entire clan killed right in front of him. The clan members that he had gotten to know so well... So many names had passed by his brain.

Unfortunately, he could not mourn them, for there were so many other things he wished would have happened. He wished that the Judgemaster had sent all of the clans together. He wished he could have stocked up on more Phoenix Downs. He wished that the rest of his crew had had access to better equipment. But alas, nothing could possibly have been done about it then; Julian was the last person left in his clan, and he knew it more than he would really have wanted to.

And thus, there he was, the last person of his clan that was alive. He only wished he had not been the clan leader.

Slowly, the wounds were beginning to take their toll on him, and so, he collapsed onto the ground, his broadsword falling from his grip as he was welcomed by a strange blackness.

* * *

When Julian woke up, the first thing he noticed was that there were a lot of bandages wrapped around his cuts. The bangaa slowly opened his eyes to find himself in a very decrepit house.

The bangaa sat up, a little confused. The house was very downtrodden; there were numerous holes in the roof that were letting a torrential rain go through. The air was damp, mostly from the rain, but also because of what looked like a pigsty over to the side that seemed to trap the water. It was a very dark place; only a few pieces of subdued light came from the ceiling, and the darkness cause a strange feeling of terror to creep into his being.

But more than this feeling of terror was something else. The defender was a little confused as to how he wound up in a house when he fell unconscious in an alley, but as soon as he saw the human figure that was bent on his knees by the pigsty he put many things together quite quickly.

"Hey," he said, voice creaking slightly. "What'sss going on?"

The figure turned, and then the bangaa noticed that the person was a human, his face covered in grime that slowly slid down his face due to the rain that seeped through the cracks in the wood. He stood up, revealing a bow strapped to his back as he approached the bangaa.

"Good, you're up," he said quickly, brushing some very long black hair back from his face, revealing some rather bland eyes. "That'll make my job easier."

"What're you talking about?" asked Julian, now beginning to get a little angry. "What about my clan? What about all of the other clansss?"

The human shook his head. "It's a trap," he said simply. "Whoever's in this town is trying to take over Ivalice."

"What the hell do you mean?" asked the very confused bangaa. "My clan isss dead, I'm ssstuck in Jagd Helje, and I don't know what the hell'sss going on here!"

The human looked up. "I wouldn't be surprised, actually," he said. "Not a whole lot of people know everything that goes on here in Jagd Helje."

Julian shut his eyes, shaking his head. "Then tell me what'sss going on here!" he exclaimed.

The stranger nodded, and he began pacing around the room. "There's a tactic that clans in the Jagd use to get revenge on anybody that gets on their bad side," replied the human at length. "They feign the start of something serious like a cult activity or something like that. Anyways, they carry on with it for so long that they eventually get the attention of the clan that they want revenge on. Then, they wait in the jagd and wait to ambush those clans. And when they do, they take no prisoners; everybody is slaughtered like pigs."

"That doesssn't anssswer my quessstion!" replied Julian. "What doesss thisss have to do with my clan? Thisss wasss their firssst time in the jagd!"

"I heard the leader of this operation saying something about wanting to take over Ivalice," he replied. "And to do that, he was going to lure every clan in the country to Jagd Helje. Essentially, it would render Ivalice almost completely defenseless..."

"... and then they'd head ssstraight for Berevinia and take over the Royal Guard..." finished Julian, shock coming over his sapphire eyes as he thought of the repurcussions of what was going on.

The youth nodded. "You're very lucky to be alive," he said. "You're so far the only guy I've met who's lived to tell the tale of those ambushes. And the fact that you survived with only a few cuts, too... God really is on your side." He stopped walking around, nodding solemnly. "But that means they'll only hunt for you even more intensely."

Realizing something, the bangaa looked at the human with a slightly frightened expression on his face. "What're you going to do to me?" he asked.

The human leaned over so that his eyes could look directly into Julian's eyes, his hands resting on the table that Julian only just realized was there. "I'm gonna get you out of here," he said. "It isn't gonna be easy, I can tell you that, but you got stuck in this mess with nobody to help you, and since I don't really like what the ringleader of this operation's been doing as of late, I'm gonna help you. Also, because I can't physically leave Jagd Helje or the leader has ways of killing me, and someone needs to alert the judges if we don't defeat the entire opposing clan first."

Quite subdued by this, the bangaa nodded to the stranger. "Oh, thanksss," he said.

"Don't mention it," he said. "The name's Mauritz, by the way." He said this as he held a hand out to the bangaa in a friendly gesture.

"Julian," replied the defender, taking the human's hand in his and shaking it while nodding. "When do we leave?"

"Now," replied the human. "Those jagd clans know this place better than you do, so the sooner we can get you out of here, the better. Can you walk?"

Julian decided to test this. Feeling the table beneath him, the bangaa slid off, and when he was able to make several paces around the table he nodded.

"Then let's get out of here," said Mauritz as he moved to the pigsty and removed the blade that Julian recognized as his own from a hiding spot. "Now, you're to follow my lead exactly, and you're to do exactly as I tell you to. You are never to talk unless I ask you something. And if we have to fight, you better man up and fight, because if you don't kill those assholes first, they're gonna kill you. Is that clear?"

The bangaa nodded as he took the sword from the hunter. "I got it," he said.

The human nodded. "Good. Now follow me," he said.

Mauritz then stepped out of the door, Julian following suit as the hunter went out of the house and into the rain outside.

* * *

Around an hour had passed in their quest to get out of the jagd. Julian had been following Mauritz's instructions so faithfully Mauritz had begun to feel quite awful about having to order him around. However, as they moved around, they suddenly heard the sounds of battle ring out.

"Oh my God..." said Mauritz as the rain poured down on them. "They're ambushing another clan!"

Julian could not resist saying something. "What do we do now?" he asked.

The hunter looked to Julian, then to the source of the sound, brainstorming as fast as he could. "Wait here," he instructed. "And if anybody comes to you that isn't running in panic, fight them."

The hunter than took off onto the roofs, where he saw the people ambushing a rather large clan. Swords were clashing, spells were being cast, and there was chaos as the ambush happened. Mauritz knew that with this ambush there were nowhere near enough people to actually take them all down. Things would be positive for them after all.

Mauritz grabbed an arrow from his pack, and stringing it quickly he let it loose into one of the people he knew was in the ambush. He unleashed another three arrows into the crowd, and when four people were down the clan that was being attacked took a hit.

"Quick! Get out of here!" shouted someone within the crowd.

As the hunter jumped below the roof of the house he was on so he could not be seen, he saw the ambush force begin to get very overwhelmed by the clan members. However, in their mad rush to get away, the clan split into a bunch of groups, and they all fled from the center of the ambush and radiated out. Seeing this, the opposing clan members were very angry. Shaking his head and grunting, Mauritz jumped back to the ground and ran back to Julian.

The bangaa was in exactly the same place that Mauritz had left him at. He had his sword drawn in case enemies had come over, however, so Mauritz sighed in relief when he saw his new bangaa friend.

"Change of plans," greeted Mauritz right when Julian noticed his presence. "We've got an entire clan to get out of here."

"What?" asked Julian. "What happened up there? Did sssomething crasssy happen?"

The hunter nodded. "I managed to keep the latest ambush from causing any death," he said. "At least, to the clan that was being attacked. Unfortunately, the clan that was being attacked scattered throughout the Jagd. We've gotta go out there and find them."

"But how do we do that?" asked the defender, throwing his arms up in the air. "They mussst be all over the place by now!"

"Trust me, I know Jagd Helje inside out," replied Mauritz as he began to move, Julian following him closely. "I know all the spots that people that have never been in a jagd before would use to hide. And so do they, so if we don't move fast then there are gonna be people dying."

To this, Julian said nothing. Instead, he simply followed the human faithfully, keeping in step as they moved through Jagd Helje quickly.

* * *

The hunter had stopped after they had travelled down the decrepit streets. Julian would have asked what was going on, but when he heard the rush of panicked footsteps he kept quiet. Listening carefully, Mauritz guided Julian so their backs were both to one of the walls. They then saw a paladin running along with an assassin trailing behind him. When they dissapeared from view, the hunter looked out and motioned for the bangaa to follow.

They both followed the other pair at a distance, not wanting to frighten them into thinking they were with the people that had ambushed them earlier. The chase went through several alleyways, but Mauritz always seemed to know where they were heading next, as somehow the couple he and Julian were pursuing were only out of sight for a few seconds. The chase went on like this for about five minutes.

Finally, they came upon a dead end in the alley, where the paladin and the assassin were both looking up. Mauritz nodded to Julian, and the two of them began slowly advancing on the pair.

"Damn it, I don't know how we'd jump over there!" said the assassin loudly as Mauritz and Julian slowly crept over to them.

"Cecille, you're the assassin!" replied the paladin. "You can get over this wall and pull me up."

"Yeah, I can," she replied. "But I don't have that kind of strength to pull you up with your swords and your armor and all that!"

By this time, Mauritz had managed to sneak up on them. Deciding to play the role of prankster briefly, he tapped both of them on the shoulder, shocking them into turning around and staring at him, panting wildly.

"If I was any other person, you'd be dead," began the hunter. "But since I saw your clan getting ambushed, you're still standing here."

Julian gave a confused glance to the paladin, and it was only when the hunter looked at the paladin more carefully that he realized the paladin was staring at him with quite the expression of confusion.

"... Mauritz?" he asked.

The hunter tensed almost immediately, throwing both the assassin and the defender off as they looked at each other in shock. "What the hell?" asked the hunter in disbelief. "Carlos? What the hell are you doing here?"

The paladin replied simply by tackling Mauritz to the ground, the both of them at Julian's feet as he looked to the assassin. The looks of pure confusion that were exchanged between them were quite wild.

"Mauritz, I finally found you!" exclaimed the paladin. "You've got no idea how far I went to find you!"

"What, you mean those asshat parents of yours sent you to find me?" asked Mauritz rudely.

"Of course not!" replied the paladin. "I left them too!"

Julian had enough of this, and he threw his arms into the air. "That isss it!" cried the bangaa. "What isss going on here? How the hell do you know each other?"

Both of the humans looked up to Julian and the assassin. Quickly, they both stood up, Mauritz brushing the dirt off of his clothes.

"Oh, Carlos here is my older brother," replied Mauritz with a slight tinge of distaste in his speech. "And apparently, he joined the clan we're trying to save right now."

The viera turned her head to look at her paladin friend. "Wait, you mean that this hunter person here is Mauritz?" she asked.

"Yeah..." said Carlos, rubbing his head in embarrassment. "Uh... Yeah, Mauritz, this is Cecille... And the bangaa is...?"

"Julian, at your ssservissse," replied the bangaa, bowing his head politely. "I never would have guesssed that Mauritsss had an older brother..."

"Yeah, yeah," interrupted Mauritz, waving his hands around. "Listen, we'll save the small talk for later. Julian and I have only found you two so far in the entire jagd, and if we don't move fast then those motherfuckers will get every other person in your clan. So keep your trap shut and do exactly as I tell you to."

Carlos tilted his head to the side, a little peeved at this. "Hey!" he said. "I'm your older brother! I thought it was me that was supposed to order you around!"

"Yeah, well, you may be older, but you don't know the jagds as well as I do," countered Mauritz dryly. "So unless you plan on dying, you better do as I say!"

Without another word, Mauritz began to run out of the alley they had run in through. Julian followed suit quite quickly afterwards, with Carlos and Cecille staying behind for one second. They both shrugged to each other and then followed the hunter out of the alleyway.

* * *

And somehow, about three days later, Mauritz and Julian managed to get almost all of Clan Nutsy together. They were returning to Cyril then, after having defeated the clan that was ruling Helje at the time. Now, Carlos, Mauritz, and Julian were walking together, Julian leaning against Mauritz for support as he had acquired an arrow in his leg. Pretty much everybody in Clan Nutsy had sustained some kind of injury or another, and somebody was usually busy either supporting someone else or being supported.

As Mauritz and Julian trudged on, Carlos leaned over to his younger brother.

"So, what were you doing in these past few years that you went missing?" asked Carlos.

"Well, I went to the Muscadet academy anyway despite what my parents wanted," replied Mauritz. "I went under an assumed name; that's why nobody turned me in from there.

The older sibling laughed slightly, patting Mauritz' shoulder. "That's a good Mauritz!" said the paladin mirthfully. "It's always a great thing when you follow your dreams despite what others tell you!"

Julian simply shrugged. "But then, how did you get into Jagd Helje?"

Mauritz shrugged with his free shoulder. "I heard about it in the Muscadet academy," he replied. "So... I thought I'd go there first, see if it was good for me. I think it's pretty lucky I went there, yes?"

"Yeah, yeah," replied Carlos with a shrug. "I'm just glad you haven't died on me yet."

"Yeah," replied Mauritz with a wry smile on his face. Now I get to yell at those asshats that call themselves my mom and dad as much as I want."

Julian snorted, finding this comment amusing. "My clan..." he said. "I can't believe it'sss gone... All my friendsss..."

"Well, I'm sure Marche won't mind if you join up now," replied the human, his face falling slightly as he looked to Ingg, who carried a body bag on his back. "I mean... we could use an extra fighter... and..."

Carlos choked on his words slightly as he saw the other bangaa move, and he turned around to face his brothers. Nodding slightly, Julian understood what he meant.

"Well..." replied the bangaa. "I'll think about it."

"Okay," replied Mauritz. "I just wanna see more of you in the area!"

The defender smiled softly as he looked to his new human friend. "You'll see me, that'sss for sssure," he replied.

And they continued the trek back home.


	15. Sculptor

Okay, last time, last time...

Well, last time I went over the whole Jagd Hunt thing. I think you've got it, but I think I confused you with my mention of 'Cronica de una Muerte Anunciada'. So, what is it exactly?

It's a rather short novella by Colombian writer Gabriel Garcia Marquez that talks about the murder of one Santiago Nasar by the brothers of Angela Vicario. That novel actually toyed around with time a lot, where the essential format was 'during the murder through someone else's POV', 'before', 'during the murder through another person's POV', 'after', and 'the murder itself'. I sort of got inspired by it to do something that continually comes back to square one, so the Jagd hunt will be sort of that way. Minus the playing around with narrative that comes with the magic realism movement. It's really awesome; I recommend you guys read it. (Although, I manned up and read it in its original language, so I'm sure you'll get brownie points for reading it in Spanish instead of an English translation...)

Last time we also met Carlos' brother Mauritz, and his new friend Julian. Julian does in fact join Nutsy after the Jagd Hunt, and Mauritz does become more of an asshole than you would like. So, there's that.

Now, let's introduce this last character and end Part 1 of Nutsy, shall we?

* * *

Sculptor

Agatha was not one to like lewd poses. Somehow, they just did not appease her sense of justice at all and how women should stand up for themselves.

But she was posing for a nu mou sculptor at the moment, and since even she had to admit that art was noble she took the job that Marche had asked her to. Chita did not seem to mind, as she struck suggestive poses with him essentially any time they were alone at night and Sesily was not watching. Thankfully, the pose that Amelia was doing was not as suggestive as what she would have considered to be an offensive pose. Indeed, as she leaned against a rock with only an elaborately long cloth covering her breasts for clothing, she felt that somehow things would be okay.

_"Um, excuse me sir..."_

_"Oh, may I help you?"_

_"Yes, I'm looking for a sculptor? He left a request at the pub."_

_"Ah, you must be the model, then! I'm Cesare."_

_"Agatha. So, what do you want me to do?"_

The viera had to admit that at first it had felt extremely uncomfortable posing for this artist. But as the grey-furred nu mou chiseled away at the block of marble that he was working with, she grew a little more comfortable. After all, his gaze was essentially trained on the marble that he as working with, and he only glanced back at her to check his reference.

Agatha could not help but notice that somehow, his gazes seemed to linger on her person ever so slightly longer than what should have been. She shrugged it off as simply being a case of bad nerves, and so she continued to look out as if she was gazing at the sea from the rock.

_"Well, the library wanted a shot of an almost-nude woman looking out to sea. I don't know. It's supposed to symbolize providence."_

_"Yeah, I didn't think that would be how they chose to symbolize providence either. But then again, this is Ivalice, where Remedi spoils her son so badly she--"_

_"All right, all right. So, you want to come into the sculpting room?"_

_"Well, okay. I guess the sooner the better."_

_"It's a process that takes days, trust me. And by the end of it, I think you'll have sneezed so many times I would think you would have come down with the flu."_

The dust that resulted from the constant chiseling was in fact quite annoying. Agatha was not one to sneeze so many times, however, so she stood her ground, even when her nose was starting to tickle her rather badly.

"I see you have a resilience against sneezing," said Cesare from where he was sculpting. This caught Agatha a little off guard as he had barely spoken at all. "That's quite good for modeling, I tell you. You should consider a career in that."

"I don't know about that, Cesare," replied the viera stridently. "I seem to have a calling that goes higher than modeling for artists. That, and I'm pretty sure my boyfriend wouldn't approve."

The nu mou nodded simply before returning to his work.

_"What? It takes days?"_

_"Sculptors cannot be expected to chip into their stone in a day. Working with a medium that is rigid by nature is not work that can be done fast."_

_"Well, nobody told me that when I went here."_

_"I wouldn't expect them to. People always forget that time flies right by them..."_

The viera had practically memorized the pose well enough not to be distracted by Cesare's small talk by this point. The days were indeed going by fast, and inside her head she was thinking all kinds of revolutionary thoughts.

Then again, Agatha had realized by that point there was very little that actually needed to be worried about. At this point, a rebellion seemed inevitable, and the Randell family would most likely be overthrown. Agatha knew Nikolai well enouh to know that the Inverness family was very well-natured and that they would be perfect to replace the Randell family.

All these thoughts had occurred to her as Cesare chipped away at the stone he was working with.

_"I don't know, Cesare. Time for some flies right by, but for others it goes really slowly."_

_"And what would you know of the world, Agatha?"_

_"A bit more than you probably do."_

_"Oh, that is quite arrogant, especially to me. I mean, I'm a nu mou!"_

_"Doesn't mean you know everything."_

_"That is true, but we know more than most do."_

_"I dunno, you're also being quite arrogant yourself."_

"Done."

Agatha looked over to see the impressive stonework that was set to be placed into the library. Looking at the statue, she saw all of the curves that the nu mou had somehow carved into the slab of marble that he had started out with.

"Wow..." said the viera as she turned around from where she stood. "Looks... quite impressive."

"A little more criticism, please?" asked the nu mou, raising one of his eyebrows as he did. "Like, is it too good?"

Agatha shook her head, smiling as she did. "Eh, a bit of arrogance when you can do someting like this, I guess. But don't stretch it."

The sculptor simply nodded as he looked on his creation. "Still, it was probably wrong of me to boast. I do still have to improve my alchemy."

The viera's eyebrow rose in curiosity. "Oh, hey, my clan needs an alchemist right now," said the viera. "I'm sure they wouldn't mind if you joined."

"You think so?" asked the nu mou as he looked down at the viera with soft hazelnut eyes. "I hear one of the Inverness children is there."

"Oh, he's not such a bad person," replied Agatha with a dismissive wave of her hand. "You'll like him, I'm sure..."

The viera had the feeling that there was something else that the nu mou meant by that statement, but she brushed it aside as she went over to the corner to put her clothes back on. Cesare simply shrugged.

"Ah, well," he said. "I'm sure it can't hurt."

"Great!" said Agatha gleefully as she pulled her shirt on first. "I'm sure Marche will be thrilled when he finds we have a new alchemist!"

_"Bah, you have no idea. I got kicked out of the Cadoan academy..."_

_"What? Why?"_

_"Stupid stuff. I don't really want to talk about it. Anyway, let's get started on this sculpture, yes?"_

_"Of course. So, where to?"_

_"This way, please."_

* * *

A/N: And thus ends Part 1 of Nutsy. Next part, plot developments! So stick around, and I'll get back to you soon.

-Herr Wozzeck


	16. Familiarity

Okay... This has been neglected in terms of stuff. Wow, I need to get off of my dream-inspired binges...

All right, so last time we ended Part 1 of Nutsy with the introduction of Cesare, the last person to join Nutsy.

Now, let's rewind a bit and go back to the beginning of FFT:A's plot. Now, let's see what the characters have to say about certain plot developments!

And, since we've already talked about the Thesis Hunt mission a bit in Hopper's introduction, it's only fair that we get to Ritz and Marche's first meeting in Ivalice! So let's get started with that! Away Part 2!

* * *

Part 2: Plotlines

Familiarity

The Cheetahs were a slightly tough bunch to find. However, Marche had quite a bit of confidence that Nubswood was the right place to search.

Hopper followed the human closely, Lutia and Orsiny both following behind him as they moved through the forest. The forest was rather friendly, but they knew that the conmen could be hanging around at any corner. And they both knew that it would be a bad thing if they were caught off guard.

"I hope we get to thessse people firssst..." commented Hopper with a great amount of concern in his voice.

"Keep talking like that and we will never find them first," replied Lutia flatly as she glared at the bangaa.

"What?" asked Orsiny, shrugging slightly. "They're conmen. They're not likely to hide in places. They'd rather come to us first and see what they can swipe from us..."

"Ecksssactly!" exclaimed Hopper, raising a finger in the air. "Ssso if they find usss, they are not likely to attack!"

Lutia rolled her eyes at this. "They are now that you said that," she said. "Now please, do be quiet. I have an awful feeling something strange is going to happen soon."

The group continued on in silence from this point.

However, Lutia's sharp ears suddenly picked up a rustling of the bushes nearby. Resting a hand on Hopper and Orsiny's shoulders, the black mage and the warrior both stopped. Marche walked a few extra paces away before realizing that the entire rest of the group had stopped.

"What was that?" asked the black mage quite suddenly.

"Looks like we've got company..." muttered Marche, his hand coming to the handle of his sword warily.

There was silence in the bushes, however, and as the human soldier looked around a tuft of pink hair suddenly popped up from the bushes.

"...Marche?" asked a voice from within the bush.

Eyebrows shot up everywhere as Marche noticed the tuft of odd-colored hair.

"Ritz?" asked the human boy with quite a startled voice.

And then, a young human female rose from the bushes, a viera companion standing up right next to the lady as the three people Marche had brought with him looked on.

"Marche!" exclaimed the pink-haired girl as she stepped out of the bush with her viera companion beside her. "I didn't think I would find you here!"

"Neither did I!" exclaimed Marche happily. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," she said, holding up a rapier with pride. "I actually use magic now! How're you?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he said, nodding his head as the rest of his clan looked to each other in confusion. "So now that we're here..."

"I beg your pardon, Marche, but... do you know this woman?" asked Lutia as unobtrusively as she could.

The human boy turned to his companions and back to Ritz before rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

"Oh, yeah..." he said as Hopper and Orsiny both gave him distasteful looks. "Uh... this is Ritz, she's a good friend of mine..."

Ritz raised an eyebrow. "So I take it you joined a clan?" asked the girl inquisitively.

"Yesss," replied Hopper as he looked down at Marche. "He actually leadsss it right now."

"As does Ritz," replied the human girl's viera companion as she bowed politely to them. "Shara, at your service."

Ritz rubbed her chin softly, a thought suddely coming to her. "Wait, if you are in a clan, then... Are you after the Cheetahs, too?"

All of the eyebrows of Marche's clan suddenly went up. Coughing and regaining his composure in front of his friend, the young human boy nodded. "Yeah, we're after them," he said. "You guys want to work together with us?"

"Sure," said Ritz. "Come on! Let's go find these losers before they find us!"

And so the two clans joined forces, the group of six moving through Nubswood rather quickly after they had joined up.

* * *

After quite some time of searching later, Marche and his friends had found the conmen. And now, Hopper was busy pulling all of them along by a rope as they all marched behind the bangaa, their eyes seeming to shimmer sadly in defeat. Marche and Ritz stood ahead of the group, with Shara just behind Ritz and Orsiny and Lutia staying by their bangaa companion. Orsiny seemed to look guiltily down at the ground as they moved, Lutia's interest being piqued by this.

"Orsiny?" she asked.

"What?" he replied simply.

"Is something bothering you?" asked the viera.

The human let out a mirthless chuckle. "Oh, it's nothing," he said. "I'm just thinking, that's all."

"Well, your thinking'sss a little bit much, don't you think?" asked Hopper as they moved along.

"I'm just thinking about Marche and this friend of his, Ritz," he said.

Lutia's eyebrow rose. "What about them?" she asked.

"Don't you guys get the feeling there might be something... else... in there?" he asked.

Hopper chuckled, Orsiny casting his glance on his fellow clan-mate. "I don't think ssso, no," the bangaa replied softly. "I mean..."

It was around here that Marche had paused, Ritz saying a few words before nodding to Shara. The two of them then proceeded to walk away from the blonde boy, but Ritz was sure to wave back to Marche's fellow clan members. This left Marche muttering a few things to himself, and then he continued on.

A little confused, the three clanmates glanced at each other uncertainly. After a few seconds, they shrugged, the three of them following behind.

"Well, looks like I was wrong," said Orsiny with a shrug. "Still, I get the feeling we're going to be seeing her face again."

"Let'sss hope it'sss not under bad termsss..." replied Hopper as they walked behind the human leader, eventually catching up to him.

"I've got a feeling that's what it's gonna be, though," replied the human. "I mean, look at Marche right now. He seems pretty morose if you ask me."

Looking over to the blonde boy, Lutia and Hopper both noticed that this was the case, as Marche's gaze seemed to be trained at the floor as he moved along. His hands were also in his pockets, which Lutia immediately noticed.

"Huh," she said. "I guess you were right."

"Well, let'sss hope thingsss go good for them anyway," said Hopper with a smile curving on his lips. "It won't hurt to hope."

Orsiny nodded. "I suppose you're right..." he said softly.

The group continued on, following Marche out of the Nubswood as they continued talking amongst themselves.


	17. Totema

All right, so last time we talked about Ritz. That will be a bit of a pinaccle on which stuff revolves. So keep an eye out for that.

And this time? We'll jump ahead a bit to the World Thread/Totema bit, where we see people get very, very confused.

Don't have a whole lot to say for some reason, so I'll just hand you guys the chapter.

* * *

Totema

Orsiny, Cecille, Salsber, Ingg, and Juris were all following Marche closely, the six of them going by the grand Ulei River. They had been sent to investigate some strange paranormal activity that was reportedly happening in the area. Juris had instantly declared it all to be a hoax, and he was going along with the rest of the group to see it proven.

Much to the great relief of the other five, however, Juris had seen it fit not to pester them with talk about how it might possibly be a hoax and all the pitfalls that the so-called 'warping' along the river as they moved along. It especially came as a great relief to Marche, who seemed to have a lot on his mind in the past few days.

They moved along in silence, moving to the spot that the warping had reportedly taken place. Juris dragged himself along in the back, Salsber perched on his shoulder as Ingg, Orsiny, Cecille, and Marche all walked a little faster than the nu mou.

Finally, the group arrived at the spot, Salsber jumping off of Juris' shoulder as they looked around them.

"Well, here we are," said Marche, holding a map and looking around. "You guys see anything odd here?"

"Not yet," replied Cecille with a shrug. "Should we give it time?"

"Maybe," said Juris, scanning the area. "I do not see anything indicating a hoax at the moment…"

Orsiny shrugged at this. "We'll see…" said the human as he tugged on his new blue mage hat tentatively. "Things always change really fast one way or another."

The lone bangaa in the group shrugged. "Hopefully, it'll jussst be sssomething trivial," he said.

Salsber had been actively looking around the river bank, searching its sands for any clues of a possible hoax. Bending down, the thief's eyes were set in a frown of concentration, shaking his head constantly before moving on to a new spot.

"I dunno, kupo," he said as he darted around, checking every last stone before moving on. "I can't see any kind of prank items, kupo."

The rest of the group nodded before an eerie sound rung into the air. Marche and Cecille happened to turn their heads at just the right moment to see what looked like a sphere of dark magic distorting the look of the grass field on the other bank of the river. The grass seemed to wave about, but the fact that the very air around it seemed to change color was highly unnerving for the human boy and the viera. However, nobody else was able to see it, for just as soon as it had appeared it had disappeared with remarkable speed.

"Whoah!" said Marche. "You guys missed it!"

"I know I didn't!" said Cecille, blinking tentatively as she wondered what had just happened.

Juris shook his head as he looked on the spot. "We are wasting our time on this bank, then," said the nu mou at length. "Let us go to the other end and see—"

But then, the strange distortion in reality appeared a second time. This time, everybody's heads were facing it, and they saw the strange warp in color take over a certain spot in the field.

Ingg was the first to speak when the distortion faded away.

"What wasss that?" asked the bangaa.

"This is not a hoax," said Juris. "Magic like that would take much longer to recharge than that."

"Then, what do we do, ku--?"

Salsber did not finish his sentence, for then the wrinkle in reality appeared again. This time, however, it expanded so that Marche and his friends were affected. They saw the air around them turn black as night, their clothes changing colors as well in the warped reality.

It was then that they all lost consciousness, all of them falling to an increasingly invisible ground.

* * *

Orsiny felt the ground beneath him as he came to. What he felt surprised him greatly.

Instead of the soft dirt he had been expecting at that point, he felt a cold stone floor underneath his body. Wondering what this could have meant, he opened his eyes slowly, standing up as he did.

What he saw around him forced out any questions he might have asked to make sure the group was all right. The stone floor seemed suspended in a strange violet void that seemed to twinkle in the distance. This caused everything around him to be immersed in a dull purple light, the color covering every other color in the area. He saw his friends strewn about the space, all of them lying on the cold floor. He tugged at his robes tentatively, thinking to wake them up when something caught his eye.

He looked at it, shocked to find a huge crystal that seemed to be levitating over the floor. This was the only thing that showed any semblance of color that was not violet, and Orsiny was amazed at the bluish-white light that emanated from this strange crystal that he saw. His eyes were quite wide as he took in the mysterious majesty of his surroundings, and he was rendered speechless for quite a while.

"Where are we?"

Marche's voice snapped the blue mage out of his reverie, and looking to where the blonde boy stood, Orsiny shrugged.

"You tell me," said the mage. "The one minute, we're at the Ulei River. The next, we're in this wierd place..."

Slowly, the entire group roused from their positions, everybody standing in awe of what they saw.

"This is definitely not a hoax," affirmed Juris as he looked around him. "Wherever might we be?"

"You are at the world thread."

A loud, booming voice said this. Upon hearing the words come from seemingly nowhere, the entire group was sent darting their heads about.

"What was that?" asked Cecille.

"You do not understand my words? Very well then."

A strange figure then seemed to teleport in front of the group. All eyes turned to a rather hulking beast that seemed to be mechanical in nature. It had a very large body with a badly proportioned head, the legs seeming like they would snap like twigs at any given moment. Hard, white eyes glanced at the entire group, a cannon seeming to stand in place of one of his arms. Salsber immediately jumped at this, jumping onto the back of Ingg's head.

"W... what're you, kupo?" asked the moogle innocently.

"I am Famfrit," replied the metal beast. "I am the guardian of that which you have intruded upon."

"It'sss not our fault!" cried Ingg suddenly. "Sssome... sssome...!"

"Silence!" roared the beast, his voice reverberating off of no visible surface. This cut off any attempt by the bangaa to put what he was trying to say into words. "A wrinkle in space is naught to be worried about."

Juris gave the metallic creature an odd look. "And what, pray tell, have we intruded into?"

"You have intruded into the keeping place of this crystal!" stated Famfrit. "This crystal, one of five, is a part of the world thread, which keeps two worlds together. You threaten this new balance, this new order."

"Wait, so if we destroy this crystal and others like it, then I can go home?" asked Marche suddenly. "To the real world?"

The question threw all of his companions off. Orsiny shot him a confused look.

"Marche, what the _hell_ are you talking about?" asked the blue mage. "Ivalice _is_ the real world!"

"Not in his case," rebuked Famfrit stoically. "There is a second world that has merged with Ivalice; this would be Marche's world. Someone in the Randell line has been posessed by the spirit of one of the people in this second world. Even though the prince has not realized it yet, this spirit will emerge from him and come to dominate his thinking."

"What the hell is this?" asked Cecille, confused. "What are you talking about? What's this second world?"

"I have stated enough!" cried Famfrit suddenly, raising his arm cannon at Marche. "I will not let you destroy the delicate balance between worlds, and I will not let you destroy a dream!"

And then an odd blast of blueish light shot out of the arm cannon, decimating the floor in front of him. Marche had jumped out of the way just in time, however.

Immediately upon seeing this, the group knew that Famfrit was not going to mess around. They put their incredible skepticism to the side for that particular moment, and they looked at Famfrit as Marche jumped in to attack the guy with his now-drawn sword.

When Famfrit blocked this, Cecille found this a good opportunity to lodge a well-placed arrow into the creature's side. Howling in surprised pain, Famfrit dropped his guard long enough for Marche to get in a blow. The sword scratched Famfrit's impressive armor, but beyond that it did not seem to do much.

"You too?" asked the guardian.

"You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us," replied Orsiny.

This quotation earned a rolling of eyes from Marche as he thought of something that he knew the inhabitants of Ivalice would never quite understand.

Before much else could be said, however, the guardian simply knocked Marche away with his arm cannon. Groaning and standing, the rest of the group charged at the totema, Orsiny, Cecille, and Juris staying in back to provide support while Marche, Ingg, and Salsber pressed a close-quarters attack on Famfrit.

Orsiny looked at the creature, wondering what it was and why it was guarding that crystal. He flung a few healing spells at his friends as well as watchig for what Famfrit would do next.

The totema was swinging his arm cannon around crazily, Salsber, Ingg and Marche doing their best to dodge each blow. Salsber was always successful in this regard, the lithe moogle jumping about while dodging each blow. Ingg and Marche were generally not as successful, and while Ingg was usually better at blocking such that the blows barely affected him, Marche was being knocked all over the place. It was at this time that the blonde boy was beginning to show remarkable resilience, however, as he continually stood up and rejoined the fray.

This sight kept Orsiny going, and despite the fact that he was beginning to get exhausted from throwing healing magic at his allies, everything seemed to be going rather well for them.

Slowly, the armor that was guarding Famfrit's body was beginning to take far too much beating. Cecille seemed to notice this, and looking at one spot she cocked an arrow on her bow. She then waited for the perfect opportunity to nail that particular spot as the clan members engaged in direct combat with the guardian. She knew she only had one chance to get it right, and she did not intend on messing it up.

Finally, the group had turned Famfrit towards Cecille just as Orsiny and Juris were running out of magic power. The crack in the armor was glaring to Cecille, and she smiled perversely.

Without shouting, the archer let the arrow fly. It lodged itself straight into the crack that the archer had hoped it would, and then the entire suit of armor crumbled into nothing. What was left was a bunch of mechanical gear-work that slowly came apart upon itself. However, when each piece hit the floor, they would simply vanish into the air as if Famfrit had never existed at all.

Juris raised an eyebrow upon seeing the gears disappear, but what was even stranger was the the crystal at the head of the platform they were on suddenly began glowing much brighter, and it kept glowing brighter and brighter until a bluish-white light saturated the entire scene. It was that much more jilting when the light suddenly disappeared and everybody was standing in a back void, devoid of any kind of color other than the fact that they could see their friends nearby. The sound of a gigantic glass crashing rang out in the void, and a few shards of the crystal were visible as they flew beyond everybody that was standing in this void.

Suddenly, an apparition of a little boy in regal clothing appeared above them, facing Marche. All of Marche's companions did a double-take at seeing the figure there.

"The prince of Ivalice?" asked Orsiny loudly. "What the hell does he have to do with this?"

"_Ow... Ow... my head!_" cried the apparition. "_That... Was that a rock...?_"

Marche tensed, recognizing the voice.

"Mewt...?" he asked at length. "That snowball..."

Before Marche could ponder more and before anybody else could ask what Marche was talking about, the black void around them suddenly melted. Before they knew what had happened, they found themselves standing on the firm ground of the Ulei river bank. The group was left mystified for a good half a minute, all of them looking at each other as if a member of royalty had just died.

Ingg was the first one to speak up. "What the _hell_ wasss that?" he asked.

"I cannot say..." replied Juris, shaking his head. "That was far, far too elaborate to be a hoax."

"Better yet, what the hell was up with Prince Mewt's apparition appearing at the end there?" pointed out Orsiny.

Cecille glanced at Marche uncertainly. "And even better, how the hell does Marche seem to know more about what's going on than any of the rest of us?"

The blonde boy shook his head, looking to his five companions. "It's a really long story, and I was hoping I'd never have to tell it, but whatever..." said Marche. "Where I come from, Ivalice is a small town, and it's snowy! That's what it's like in the world where I came from..."

"Huh," said Salsber. "Never would've thought about snow, kupo."

"Yeah," said the boy. "There was a kid named Mewt who got picked on all the time by bullies... And in a snowball fight, he took a rock to the head when it was disguised as a snowball."

Cecille's eyes widened at this, the viera utterly shocked. "Oh, that's awful!" she said.

"But it ssstill doesssn't ecksssplain anything," added Ingg. "Ssso what happened?"

Marche shrugged. "Well, after that, Mewt, myself, and a couple of others got together in a room to look at a book Mewt had borrowed from the library," he said. "It was blank, but it had pictures of your races and strange symbols. I don't know what happened, but I go to bed that night, and the next thing I know I'm lying face-first in the dirt of Sprohm, these clothes on me and a sword in my hand. I don't know what the hell happened either."

"Wait, so you are saying a strange book either transported you to Ivalice, turned your town into a sick illusion, or molded the two together?" asked Juris.

The human boy nodded quickly at the nu mou's question. Perplexed, everybody looked to Juris to see what the rising Sage would say. Orsiny, however, suddenly realized something.

"Wait a minute!" he exclaimed. "That Famfrit guy said something about a world merging with Ivalice... I know this sounds crazy, but maybe we're in a hybrid world where Marche and his friends are?"

"I do not see why not," said Juris slowly. "But we cannot make an honest judgement of what is truly going on. The next time we hear of these strange occurrences, a couple of us should come with Marche. We will evaluate more then."

Salsber jumped into the center of the group then. "And also, what's with this wierd thing, kupo?" he asked.

The moogle held his hand out, the palm facing the ground as the group looked on. A strange symbol was etched onto the brown hand of the moogle, looking as if it had been burned there by some mysterious force. The emblem was that of an arm cannon, much like the one Famfrit had on his arm.

Shaking his head, Juris looked down at Salsber. "Maybe it is a brand of some sort," replied Juris.

'We'll have to sssee..." said Ingg.

"Yeah," added Marche. "Well, I guess we need to head back and report that we've solved the problem."

At this, Juris raised an eyebrow. "But what did we do?" he asked uncertainly.

"The crystal broke," pointed out Orsiny. "That might've stopped it at this place, you know."

Juris nodded, accepting this explanation as the group began to walk off. "Remind me to be a little more skeptical next time something looks like a hoax..."

"Sure thing, Juris," replied Cecille, the image of Famfrit dissolving into nothing still staying in her memory as she walked along.

Their first fight with a Totema would be something they would not forget at all.


	18. Outlaw

Okay. So, last time, we had our first encounter with the Totemas, namely Famfrit.

Now, since that's a prime subject of discussion right now, I think I should briefly talk about something; the World Thread as it's talked about in _Nutsy_. Now, I'm changing a few things up. Why? Well, the plot said so. You'll see why in a bit.

So, anyways, here we are with the next chapter, where we run into one Ezel Berbier.

* * *

Outlaw

Marche was walking through the town square at Cadoan. Montblanc was by his side, as well as Juris. The nu mou was guiding Marche through the town, pointing out the areas of interest.

The clan was beginning to move beyond Cyril and Sprohm. The town of Cadoan was rather large in Ivalice's culture, and wondering its streets the young boy could see why this was so. The town was bustling with activity around every corner, people moving this way and that. Much of the crowd seemed to consist of younger people milling about, either relaxing or bartering with the local merchants for items they needed.

The town itself was very simple, with small structures around the slightly rugged, half-desert terrain surrounding them being quite prominent. Looking about, Marche was taken aback by how simple the place made itself while looking beautiful at the same time. The three of them meandered around town, looking at the various sights to be seen.

Juris paused briefly, looking to Marche and Montblanc to make sure they were following. In their pause, the three of them suddenly heard a conversation that was going on just a few feet away from them between a trio of students that were sitting down at one of the many restaurants in the city.

"Say, have you heard about this guy... Ezel Berbier?" asked one of the students.

"Yeah, I've heard of him," replied another student quickly. "He's the one making those new law cards, right?"

"The ones that can change the law in the middle of the battlefield?" asked another student.

"Yeah, those!" replied the first student. "Rumor has it he is making a series of anti-law cards to repeal laws during an engagement!"

"Really?" asked the third student. "I am not sure the ramifications of that would be good for Ivalice's populace."

"Who cares?" asked the second student. "The palace had it coming, I tell you!"

Marche, Juris, and Montblanc sort of zoned out of the conversation after this point, and as the students continued conversing Marche gave a look to Juris.

"Ezel Berbier?" he asked.

Juris shook his head, pursing his lips together. "Ezel was always something of a trouble-maker," he replied. "But never in a million years would I have expected him to do something like this..."

"You know this guy, kupo?" asked Montblanc innocently.

"We knew each other when I was a child, yes," replied Juris stoically. "Ever the prankster. I never thought he would pull a stunt of this magnitude, though."

Marche shrugged. "Well, it looks like it's doing people a favor," pointed out Marche. "I mean, those laws are beginning to get on my nerves, what with them being strengthened and all..."

The nu mou nodded in agreement. "It was only a matter of time before something like this happened," he stated. "The palace will only have itself to blame when we finally rise up to meet them in battle."

Montblanc shrugged at this. "Well, kupo, whatever happens next, we'll be ready for it, right?"

"Yep we will!" said Marche, smiling.

Without taking any further time to dwell on these thoughts, the three of them continued on in the town of Cadoan, looking at the various buildings and finding their way to the nearest inn.

* * *

Later that night, Juris and Marche were walking outside, the two of them conversing about vaious happenings. The streets of Cadoan were empty except for a few homeless people that slunk around the alleyways. Marche's hand was steady on the blade, however, so nobody even dared to get close to the youth.

"And this is why nobody ever walks the streets of Cadoan at night, not even students," said the nu mou. "It gets very dark and a little chilly at night."

"I see..." said Marche, looking around the silent town. A few lights still shone from various windows throughout the town, showing that the occupants were still up. The boy quickly brought his mind off of this, remembering the events of a few days before. "Say, Juris. Are you holding up from the whole totema thing earlier on this week?"

The nu mou nodded softly, looking to Marche. "I am still slightly baffled," said the scholar suddenly. "But I think it does make one thing a little more obvious."

"Really?" asked Marche, raising an eyebrow. "How so?"

"This unfairness with the palace started a few days before we met you," he said. "The Randell line has been around for many years, and it has always made solid decisions. And yet, when Remedi began spoiling her son, he began to impose those laws. I am inclined to believe that your friend's spirit is already showing itself in our prince, even if he does not realize it."

The human boy nodded, but then the sight of a lone figure slowly lumbering about through the night caused the two of them to pause in their tracks. The figure was going the opposite way, slowly lumbering about. Juris seemed to recognize the shade immediately, but what caught him off guard was the attire the stranger wore.

"Ezel...?" he asked under his breath as he looked to the man wondering the streets of Cadoan alone.

He had no time to follow up, however, for then a group of people suddenly came out of the shadows as the figure moved around. It was a group consisting of five people. Most of them were humans in robes, but there was a moogle in a robe. Marche had to admit that seeing the sight of a small being sitting on someone in robes was unintentionally comical, but nonetheless they found that this stopped the nu mou.

"Ezel Berbier," said one of the humans stoically. "I believe you know why we're here."

"What, that bounty by those guys from the palace?" asked the nu mou in a sort of mocking tone. "Bah, forget about 'em. They'll double-cross ya as soon as ya go to get your pay."

Juris shook his head as the exchange continued. "Oh, really?" asked the human that had initiated the conversation. "You seem to forget your law cards are all the rage in Ivalice. Once you get caught, everything will fall apart."

"When business is at its highest?" asked Ezel, winking at his assailants. "You seem to forget that I have a vast stockpile of these cards that you will have a tough time finding. And I have a connection who knows where they all are. So even if ya take down the ringleader, the operation will still run strong. Ya gotta keep your connections tight in this world, I tell ya."

The assailant chuckled. "It seems you're smarter than what we took you for," said the human. "But we will find him."

At this, the nu mou simply shook his head. "Oh, see, but ya made two mistakes already," he said. "The first, is thinking of finding him in an obvious place. 'Cause I can tell ya, he won't be so easy to find."

"We shall see," said the human. "And the second?"

At this, Ezel's hands suddenly moved, and then suddenly a spell seemed to take effect. The group jumped out of the way as a strange lavender mist hovered in the area, but by that time it was too late. The moogle plopped down as the human he was on jumped away. He was asleep right when he hit the ground, and upon seeing the position the moogle fell down to Marche couldn't help but wince slightly at what he saw.

"Ya don't underestimate your opponent," he added.

At this, the first person who had talked simply shook his head, revealing a rod. Ezel readied himself, preparing himself for what he figured would come next.

"I would say the same to you, Mr. Berbier," he said calmly.

Before the human could do much else, however, Juris launched his arm forward. A fire spell shot out of his hand, and suddenly the fireball came within range of the first mage. The cloak was set on fire, and then the human screamed, tugging the robe off of him as best as he could. When he did get it off, the human was revealed to be an illusionist. All eyes then turned on Marche and Juris, Marche having drawn his blade by this point.

"Oh, great..." said the strange human, shaking his head. "Sympathizers."

"Juris...?" asked Ezel soon after the human spoke.

Before much else could be said, Marche jumped forward, swinging his sword wildly at all of the cloaked men.

"Call engagement!" cried out one of the hooded figures suddenly.

Marche groaned as suddenly, the judge materializing from nowhere as he and Juris ran over to Ezel. A shrill whistle pierced the night, and then suddenly, they all knew that the engagement had begun.

"Ezel, I'm just thankful you're all right," said the clansman.

"What are ya doing here?" asked the card salesman.

"We'll talk after we kick these guys' butts," said Marche, already taking his turn to jump out at the nearest man with a cloak with his blade. "For now, let's fight!"

As another cloaked figure drew a knife and advanced on them, the three of them steeled themselves, Juris quickly reviewing the day's laws and glancing around him.

The figure who had drawn the knife slowly came forward, and he made to jump at Marche when he suddenly paused, looking to the judge. Marche saw what the thief was about to do, and suddenly, when the thief came in Marche dodged quickly. The boy landed a blow on the thief that sent him stumbling back a little bit, all of them petrified in place. Juris was quick to follow this up with a fire spell, keeping in mind that any other spells he could use were illegal and knowing he had to use his fire spells sparingly. The thief barely had any time to dodge this, and so he fell over to the side, unconscious.

The judge rose his arms, and then a bright light flowed from his hand. It then flew on a curved trajectory towards Juris, and then the light was absorbed into Juris' being.

"One judge point," said the judge proudly. "Continue!"

Ezel glanced at the other three cloaked figures nervously, knowing that they were all supposed to go before he could move and bring the battle to their favor. Already, another cloaked figure came upon them, drawing a blade similar to what a fighter would use. Eyeing this, Juris made a mental note to rain fire spells on him as he and Marche looked around him.

Soon after, the illusionist took a step away from the group, and before Marche knew what had happened he suddenly saw a fiery whirlwind appear above his head. The red swirled prominently, and suddenly Marche felt himself get very, very hot.

"Oh, dear, Prominence!" cried Juris suddenly, raising his hands up.

The human boy got the warning too late, for then the heat became so unbearable that he felt some of his life force tick away. Soon after, the fire disappeared altogether, leaving Marche to look at the illusionist with a bit of scorn on his face.

It was Ezel's turn then, however; the last human there was so slow it would take a while for him to do much. Grinning to himself, he waved his arms around in a similar fashion to how he had put the moogle asleep. This time, however, the lavender mist covered the entire square, adding to the moonlight as the air seemed to vibrate with dark shades of light. This seemed to have its effect; the illusionist in front of them slowly drifted off to sleep in a standing position, as did the fighter closest to them. However, the third human was still wide awake, and so he grinned evilly.

It was then that he lumbered forward, drawing a katana as he came forward.

"Oh, God, these guys have a ninja with them..." muttered Ezel.

Marche did not know much about Ivalice's ninjas, but he knew from the samurai films he had seen as a boy that this was bad news.

The ninja jumped towards Ezel, swinging at him once with a katana. Ezel was barely able to dodge this, but he still took a cut to the arm, which did not bleed as profusely as it should have. The boy had gotten used to this; it was after all a trademark of engagements.

However, Marche's turn had come up. Grinning, the human ran around the ninja, slashing at his back with his sword. The ninja groaned in pain, grabbing the wound in his back.

He had no time to think about this, either, for then Juris came running around. He launched a slightly stronger fire spell at the ninja, which was not enough to make him fall but was enough to make the warrior fall to his knees in pain.

It was Ezel's turn again, and so the card maker walked over to the ninja slowly, grinning maliciously as he drew a mace out.

"I figured ya guys would go nowhere with this plan of yours," said the card salesman nonchalantly. "Thankfully, maces aren't against the law today."

And right when the maker of law cards was standing by the ninja, the mace came down on the ninja's head, and then the ninja fell to the ground with a disappointed groan. The light flew towards Ezel as he looked back at the Judge.

Marche looked over to where the figure was holding the blade. He sidestepped the figure, looking to the Illusionist who also stood asleep. As soon as Marche had stopped moving, he gestured to Juris.

The nu mou then launched the most powerful fire spell in his arsenal. The flames engulfed the fighter, and without so much as a fight the powerful warrior was down on the ground in the same state, the flames not having burned him alive as they should have. The light arced up for a third time from the judge's hand, and then Juris felt just a little more powerful.

Marche looked at the illusionist, the purple aura of Ezel's spell taking over again as the illusionist sunk deeper into his already quite deep sleep. When the aura had faded, Marche saw his opportunity.

Jumping forward, he slashed the illusionist quickly. This abruptly woke him up, but it did not completely phase him. Before he could react, Juris had sent yet another fire spell his way, and this hit the illusionist square on. Soon after, the illusionist ran away rather quickly, raising his hands as he did so. Marche saw the crimson emblazon the skies again, but this time he was far enough away from the center of the spell that it only seemed to hurt Ezel. The salesman did nothing on his turn, standing there and gesturing to Marche. The human boy nodded, and brushing a strand of hair out of his face he jumped forward again, hitting the illusionist. He was knocked unconscious with a shrill shriek, the night then silent as Marche felt his body become invigorated with a judge point.

"Engagement end!" cried the judge suddenly. "The winner is Clan Nutsy!"

And before anybody could say anything else, the judge evaporated from view, almost as if he had never been there. Marche stood still for a moment, only budging when he felt a tug on his arm. Ezel was then running away with the two companions.

"Come on!" he said. "The judgemaster will be here any minute! Better get out of here before he comes!"

Ezel then led the two on as quickly as he could, the three of them ducking into an alleyway and behind a pile of trash. Suddenly, a heralding was heard, and then the town of Cadoan seemed more alive.

The atmosphere was tense as Marche, Juris, and Ezel sat there. Marche suddenly heard the footsteps of the judge's chocobo, and he leaned back against the wall his back was to, Juris putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder to calm the boy down. A strange sense of dread filled the boy as he looked on, and yet he was curious to see what the judgemaster looked like in person. Sure, Marche had heard tales, but as he leaned out ever so slightly to peek, he decided to disregard them and see for himself.

And when the procession marched by in their hunt for Ezel, Marche was taken aback by the face he saw.

"Mewt's dad...?" he whispered, more to himself than anybody else.

Before he could think about it more, he was promptly pulled back by Juris, the boy's back hitting the wall. Marche bit his lip to keep himself from making any sounds in pain, for he understood that if the judgemaster found them, then they would be taken and Clan Nutsy would fall apart. And this would distress Montblanc greatly, seeing as how the moogle was in town with them.

All was silent again, and then Ezel slowly crept up to where the alley ended. He looked out from where he hid behind the wall, and made sure to check both directions for the judgemaster. Upon looking away from the wall, he gestured to Juris and Marche.

"They'll check the alleys soon," he said. "Come on! Follow me!"

Marche and Juris both stood up, and then they were both running after the creator of the law cards swiftly, the three of them keeping to the shadows as they moved quickly.

* * *

Ezel had retreated into his card shop, Juris and Marche following close behind as he closed the door in the long hallway of the building it was in.

"Phew," said Ezel. "That was a close one. God knows what would've happened if Judgemaster Cid had caught us..."

"Indeed," replied Juris as Marche looked at the door, obviously disturbed about something. "Marche, is something the matter?"

The blonde boy took a few seconds to process Juris' question in his mind as he was too distracted by the revelation he had just stumbled upon to think clearly. When he did, however, he snapped his head around.

"I know who the Judgemaster is..." he said.

"Of course ya do," replied Ezel matter-of-factly. "We all do, living in Ivalice."

Marche shook his head. "No, like, I _know_ who the Judgemaster is!" repeated Marche.

The significance of what the boy not from Ivalice was trying to say suddenly clicked in Juris' mind. "As in, he was from your world?" asked the nu mou.

"Yes!" replied Marche. "And he was just a dad back there!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you talking about?" interrupted Ezel quickly.

Juris shook his head. "Oh, something about what we encountered just a few days ago," he replied. "I should explain later. It is a pleasure to see you have not decreased your antics."

At this, Ezel shot his compatriot a coy smile. "Juris, ya have that little faith with me here?" aked the nu mou. "You should've been one of the first to realize I'd pull a stunt like that."

Juris shrugged. "Even then, to think you would try to do it to help people for once..."

The other nu mou chuckled before turning to Marche. "And I see you've got a friend here," he said. "What, if I may ask, is he doing here?"

"Oh!" said Juris, gesturing for Marche to come forward. "Ezel, this is Marche Raidiju. He is the leader of Clan Nutsy, my superior, and something of a friend of mine."

"An honor, Ezel," replied Marche, extending a hand to Ezel to shake.

"Good to meet ya, kid," said Ezel amicably as he shook Marche's hand. "And welcome to my card shop, by the way."

Marche looked around the shop, really taking notice of the long blue curtains that were around him. In front of him was a sort of séance table with cards on it. The room was lit by two candles on the side of the room, and there were cards all over the room behind the curtains. Shrugging, Marche looked a Ezel.

"Isn't this kinda... fancy for a card salesman?" he asked.

"Well, I've gotta keep up appearances when the judges come by, yes?" asked Ezel. "I've gotta look like a fortune teller here; that way they don't catch on."

Marche nodded. "Well, okay," he said. "So, these cards... how do you buy them?"

"Oh, no, we don't do that in here," replied Ezel, moving behind the 'séance' table behind him and sitting at the chair. "See, what we do is we trade cards. If ya have cards, see, you can trade them in here for other cards."

Marche nodded. "I see..." he said. "I think we could use these cards, but... I don't really have any yet."

"That's fine," replied the nu mou with a smile on his face. "I'm just glad I know who you are, kid. 'Cause that means I've got someone who can watch my back."

"Yeah..." said Marche, thoughts of Montblanc sitting in the room at the inn alone suddenly coming to mind. "I really think we need to go. Montblanc's probably worried out of his mind!"

Juris raised an eyebrow upon hearing this, the sage in training realizing that Marche was right. "Oh, dear!" he said. "I apologize for having to leave so early, Ezel."

"Nonsense," replied the card dealer. "Ya saved my freedom; that's all I could ask for. I do hope to see you two again in this shop."

"I'm looking forward to the next time we meet!" replied Marche.

And with this, the human and his other friend stepped out of the shop, closing the door behind them quietly. Ezel chuckled, looking over to the cards laying on the table. Slowly, he picked up one of the yellow cards on there and began to look at it.

"He seems like a real nice kid," said Ezel. "I hope he doesn't get into too much trouble..."


	19. Dies Irae Verdi

All right. Last time, we met Ezel Berbier. He won't be super critical to Nutsy, but I thought I'd put him in to make that connection.

Actually, let me clarify how I'm doing my fight scenes. If it's a scene that occurs in a town, it will be a semi-turn based affair. If it's a field, it's a normal fight with the judge watching. If it's in totema-land, then it becomes like a jagd where the loser loses his life. If it's a jagd, well, you know.

So, okay, let's continue with the Diamond Rain mission. With a twist, of course. Why?

I'll let Salsber answer that question for you in a music prompt! The music this time? Well, we turn to Verdi for our musical needs this time, to a little something from the Manzoni Requiem. So listen in here: http:// www. youtube. com/ watch?v=B_nhoZu2cp8&feature=related Take out all spaces, and enjoy the oneshot!

* * *

Dies Irae (Verdi)

Aisenfield was unusually barren that day. But then again, Marche was not sure what 'barren' constituted in the field as he and five members of his clan walked behind him.

Salsber was perched on his head innocently, looking over to the other four members of the clan. Brother Ocon was part of the group, and he was engaged in a conversation with Orsiny about morality. Cecille and Montblanc followed behind, the second moogle walking with a rod by his side. They were supposed to go monster sweeping that day, as it was purported that the presence of monsters in the area was related to the lack of diamond rain in the area. Marche had gone in the hope that there would be something there he could find pertaining the world thread. He had taken Salsber, Cecille, and Orsiny for this reason, the four of them looking around to see where the monsters were.

"Are we there yet, kupo?"

Marche glanced up at Salsber, an annoyed grunt coming out of him. "No," he said bitterly. "Now shut up."

The boy continued walking along as Cecille came over to him. The viera looked to the boy, her eyes ridden with concern.

"Hey, are you okay?" she asked.

Marche shook his head, crossing his arms in front of him. "I don't think so," he replied. "So much crap's been going down in such a short period of time. I mean, the whole thing with the World Thread is just getting to my mind. What's supposed to happen?"

The archer shrugged at this, looking to the young boy by her side. "We'll never know until we keep going deeper," she replied insightfully. "I say we keep looking into this. Maybe this will be your way back to your normal life, after all..."

The fighter was silent, nodding as Salsber looked down on him. He did not say a whole lot throughout the rest of the trek finding the monsters, and so Cecille shrugged.

"Well, if you think of anything else, you can talk to me about it," she offered. "I was in there with you, so I'll know where you're coming from. Don't keep it all to yourself, okay?"

With this, the viera said nothing more. Marche was still pondering, not caring to reply to the viera's question.

His thoughts were interrupted very quickly by the roar of a panther. This distracted him out of his thoughts, and then the group suddenly noticed they had come face to face with a group of five monsters, all that looked like they wanted Marche dead. Seeing this, everybody drew their weapons, getting into a formation that Marche had seen. Glaring at the monsters, the boy nodded.

"Call engagement!"

The judge materialized, and then his whistle sounded loud in Aisenfield. Glaring, the group charged at the monsters, Cecille standing in the back and drawing an arrow from her bow as Montblanc and Orsiny stood in the back, the human drawing his saber quickly.

Marche, Ocon, and Salsber followed quickly behind, the three of them trying to stave off five monsters at the same time. Montblanc and Orsiny's magic did help out quite a bit, however, but even then the three forward attackers felt themselves quickly being overwhelmed by the monsters.

Cecille kept on firing arrows at the monsters, but she cursed herself for missing the monsters a few times. The four panthers and the lamia were a tough batch to handle, especially with the group he had brought along. Orsiny was at the ready in case he had run out of magic energy, but at the moment he kept charging magic spells and launching them at the monsters when appropriate. The blue mage made sure to alternate this with a healing spell every so often, however, so the three people staving off the attacks of the panthers were fine.

However, Marche was already having doubts about the strategy they had decided to take. The pub instructions had warned to beware of panthers in the area, but they had not mentioned any sightings of any other monsters. The boy knew that rushing into the fray was a bad idea when he saw the lamia amongst the enemy ranks. As the snake monster slithered up behind the panthers to try and sneak up on Marche, he knew that something would go horribly wrong in relation to that.

Thinking about it then, though, the fighter knew that there was nothing they could really do about it right then. They would just have to defeat at least one panther first and then they could deal with the threat the reptilian woman posed.

Thankfully, Ocon was still swiping away at the panthers with his claws, making sure that they kept a reasonable distance away. Salsber, too, was doing a good job of jumping around with his own claws; the moogle was still getting used to this, but he seemed to be getting the hang of closer combat than what he was accustomed to with a knife.

However, Orsiny was slowly finding he was running out of magical energy. Holding his hand and seeing as the spell did not seem to do anything, he shook his head. Without any warning, he joined the close combat fray, and in a second he had helped Marche take down a panther.

This was where things had begun to go rather badly for the group, however. The lamia had been waiting for this opportunity, and so it leapt at Orsiny quickly, and before the blue mage could do anything he felt a small kiss on his cheek. A cloud of smoke suddenly seemed to rise all around him, and then before anybody knew what else had happened, a ribbit sounded from the fog.

Cecille paused, looking at the Lamia as it waited for its next opportunity.

"Oh, God..." said Cecille, letting her arrows down temporarily as a light raced to the mage's body. "Orsiny just got frog-shaped..."

That would certainly not be the end of the group's struggles, either. Ocon misstepped slightly when fighting one of the panthers, and then he was sent falling down with a swipe from one of the panther's claws. Orsiny was quick to react, but even his saber could not stop the panthers from pouncing onto the white monk as he struggled in vain. This distraction gave another panther the opportunity to pounce on Orsiny, and before Marche knew what was happening he was dodging slaps from the lamia.

Salsber panicked instantly. Montblanc had only to charge a spell to get out of this, but the gadgeteer was instantly shocked. He let out a scream, frightened beyond belief.

However, Cecille suddenly noticed an odd glowing coming from Salsber's hand. She was not able to see where it came from, but she guessed it had to have come from the tatoo.

%^&^%

The area suddenly darkened, the new tint of the area completely confusing everybody.

It was then that both the sentient beings and the monsters noticed that the edges of the field they were in seemed to have suddenly vanished into nothing, the sky darkened to twilight as they all looked.

Suddenly, a platform far, far away seemed to materialize out of nowhere, and on it a lone figure stood. Marche looked on in awe as he realized that he recognized the figure, especially with the large arm cannon that was barely visible in the twilight.

A light then began to be charged from this arm cannon, everybody shocked as the light grew ever so brighter. It kept on getting brighter and brighter, all the way until a pale blue-white light saturated the scene.

And then suddenly, the light seemed to intensify before disappearing altogether.

What happened after could only be described as calamitous. Almost instantly, the earth began to shake uncontrollably, a few stones seeming to rise up as suddenly everybody was knocked off-balance. The very earth itself seemed to be undone by whatever the light that the figure had shot the light at them. This went on for at least a full minute until the earth had disintegrated beneath their feet.

And just when things could not get any stranger, the ground came rushing back up to meet them, the twilight rapidly brightening up as a loud whoosh was heard.

When all of the events had ended, the group looked around to find the landscape looking perfectly normal, and the judge still standing there. However, they all noticed that the monsters in front of Salsber had all passed out without so much as a fight. The light signifying the judge points then flew towards Salsber, and the light was absorbed.

"Engagement end!" cried the judge. "The winner is Clan Nutsy!"

None of the clansmen seemed to notice this as the judge warped out of the area. They did not even seem to notice when Orsiny shifted back to being a human again. All of them were incredibly dazed at what they had just seen, and for a full ten minutes, there was an impenetrable silence, even as the famous diamond rain of Aisenfield had begun to fall.

Finally, Marche looked at Salsber, who seemed to be shaking nervously.

"... What the hell was that?" asked Marche, looking at the moogle.

"I don't know, kupo! Honest!" cried Salsber. "I was just scared, kupo!"

"I... I think it had something to do with his tatoo, Marche," pointed out Cecille quickly. "I saw it light up when he panicked."

At this, Salsber paused, wondering what this could mean. Ocon and Montblanc shot the rest of the group very confused looks.

"Tatoo?" asked the bangaa priest. "That isss not wissse to mark up your body, Sssalsssber," he said.

"It's not his fault," replied Orsiny in the moogle's defense. "It was from that incident before you joined the clan. You know, the one by the Ulei River?"

Ocon raised an eye ridge, partially confused by this. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure," replied Marche, scratching his head. "But... I think I know what happened... I'll tell you more when we're back in Cyril. Come on."

The blonde boy began walking out of Aisenfield in the direction they had come from, watching the diamond rain fall. Slowly, the rest of his clan shrugged, and they followed him, wondering what Marche's explanation would be.


	20. Ultima

Okay, welcome back to Nutsy. Last time, I left you with a music prompt detailing the first use of a totema. And as we go to the next totema, they'll try to figure things out.

So with this out of the way, let's destroy the next totema!

* * *

Ultima

Marche walked along the Roda Volcano, making sure to stay on the narrow pathway that he and three others were traversing. The magma beneath them was billowing angrily, and Marche was half surprised that they had not been incinerated as he was sure they would have been in his world. He was unsure of how things worked around Ivalice with the heat of rock, however, so he simply moved on, trying not to fall into the molten rock to his sides.

Behind him, Salsber was stuck sitting on Juris' head as the nu mou moved through the pathway. A very confused Ocon was following them then, holding his staff close to his person. All of them were being as careful as Marche was, although they seemed to go at it with slightly more ease than Marche did.

The moogle was busy looking at the tatoo on his hand as he sat perched on the head of the sage. He looked at it, wondering what could have caused the total wipe-out of the enemy that had occurred the week before. It was very surreal for everybody that had been there, and Ocon had insisted upon going with Marche to Roda Volcano upon hearing it had been connected with the warping that Marche had investigated at the Ulei river beforehand.

"Wow, this lava is pretty precarious..." said Marche as he prepared to jump over some magma.

"It is almost unbearable, honestly," replied Juris as the human boy jumped across. "If people cannot stand a few minutes within the Grand Gotor Desert, then I pity them if they have to come to Roda Volcano."

Marche nodded as Juris and then Ocon followed the human boy across the little jump. "I can see that..." replied Marche as he wiped some sweat from his forehead. "But, we've gotta do what we've gotta do."

Salsber looked at the tatoo in his hand before nodding. "I hope we get answers, kupo!" replied the moogle. "I can't stop thinking about this thing and what went down earlier, kupo!"

"Neither can mossst of the ressst of usss..." replied Ocon. "That wasss probably the ssstrangessst thing I have ever ssseen in my life..."

Just then, though, Marche suddenly heard the strange drone tone. Turning his head just in time, he noticed that the black warp in reality appeared again.

"Look!" he cried, pointing at it. "It's another one of those things!"

As soon as Juris and Ocon set their eyes on it, the black faded away.

"Oh dear..." said the nu mou. "I do think this will be another one of... whatever Famfrit was."

The warp in reality appeared again, this time staying for a longer duration of time.

"What'sss going on?" asked Ocon.

Marche gritted his teeth. "If it was anything like last time..."

And then the warp in reality shot out and devoured all in its path. And once again, Marche felt himself fall into unconsciousness.

* * *

When the youth woke up, he found himself in the same void he had found himself on when he had fought Famfrit. He stood up slowly, looking around him.

"It happened again, kupo!" rang out Salsber's voice from behind him.

Quickly, Marche turned to find that the moogle was already up and about, trying to help Juris to his feet. Marche walked over and hauled Juris up onto the ground beneath him, Ocon looking around in awe of his surroundings.

"Thisss... Thisss isss insssane..." he said softly as he gazed out into the purple void, watching the color swirl by. "But it isss ssso... wondrousss..."

Marche looked out, and this time he noticed that the void seemed to have streams of green that were flying about. He looked around, unsure of what this could mean.

"There is something extra in the sky," pointed out the nu mou. "And it is green..."

"What does that mean?" asked Marche, looking around.

Juris gazed down at the human boy. "Green is a color often associated with fertility of the earth," replied Juris. "This could mean that this next one is... mystic, in its properties. As in, it would rely on incredibly powerful magic..."

Marche looked around then, and all around the group seven red crystals began to appear. Everybody's eyes widened as the crystals appeared, giving off red flames. The group stood still for a few seconds, looking around at the crystals around them.

"_I see you have come again,_" replied a disembodied voice from somewhere.

Ocon jolted where he stood, looking absolutely perturbed as Marche, Juris, and Salsber looked around.

"Are...?" asked Marche. "Are you another one of those things?"

"_Totema, you may call us,_" replied the disembodied voice. "_We watch over the world thread, keeping it from being destroyed._"

"Oh, dear, more about this world thread," said Juris.

Salsber looked up, and without blinking he held a paw up in the air. "Hey, if you know stuff, kupo, can you tell me what this is?"

Silence reigned in the air briefly, something else being communicated by silence. Finally, the disembodied voice spoke.

"_So you have defeated Famfrit..._" replied the voice. "_And he has chosen to help you._"

Marche raised an eyebrow at this. "What?" he cried. "But that doesn't make any sense! He was adamantly attempting to keep us from destroying the crystal!"

"_Not all is as it seems,_" replied the voice. "_That is all I will tell you. For now, know that I wil help one person in your party if you defeat me._"

And so, the crystals flared up, bright crimson light flooding the void for a brief second before they all saw the crystals in front of them. Marche simply shrugged, drawing his blade out and looking at the crystals.

"Well, let's kill these things and get our answers," he said slowly.

Ocon was more confused than ever, but deciding that he would get his answers soon enough, he decided to go with it.

And so, Marche launched himself at a nearby crystal, the item flaring up with a strange kind of heat to it. The boy simply brought his sword forward, and with a loud crash the blade embedded itself into the crystal. It would be with another blow to its other side from Salsber that would break the crystal effectively.

Juris looked around, holding up his mace as he looked for a crystal to destroy. As he looked around, however, one of them flared brightly, and suddenly he felt a mysterious chill come over his being. His skin suddenly felt quite numb, and then he looked to Marche.

It was thus that he casted a water spell on the human instead of the crystals. Marche was barely able to dodge the spell, and when he looked back he saw a strange look in Juris' eyes. Swearing to himself, he turned to Ocon.

"Oh, dear, these guys can charm us..." he said. "Ocon, do you have any of our items?"

"I'll sssee what I can do..." replied the bangaa.

As Marche and Salsber rushed for the next closest crystal, Ocon had run over to Juris. Upon getting there, Ocon pulled out a small sliver of paper with exotic characters on it. Looking at it briefly, he turned to Juris and ducked just in time to evade a blow from his mace. Without hesitating another second longer, Ocon slammed the piece of paper against Juris' belly.

And at once, the feeling that Juris had been having had suddenly disappeared. In his surprise, he shook his head very rapidly, and then looked down to Ocon.

"What happened?" he asked.

"You were charmed," replied Ocon. "Now let usss defeat thessse cryssstalsss before they do it again."

Juris nodded and without hesitation he casted a water spell at the nearest crystal. Ocon followed it up with a water crystal of his own, and then it was in pieces on the floor.

At this time, another shattering was heard, and Marche and Salsber had successfully dismantled another crystal, such that there were four left to destroy. The boy was already fast approaching one of the ones still floating about, with Salsber hot on his trail with his fists in hand. The two of them jumped on a crystal right as Juris and Ocon sent a water spell at another crystal that was closer to where they were. The crystal that Juris and Ocon had casted a spell on had barely cracked, but the crystal that Marche and Salsber had gone after fell apart very quickly.

Thinking quickly, Juris casted another water spell, but before the crystal could even be cracked he suddenly noticed Ocon tensing up ever so quickly. The monk then turned and swung a fist at the nu mou. Juris had no time to dodge, and so he felt the punch go right into his cheek.

"Oh, damn it," he said to himself as he looked up at Ocon. "And he has all of our items..."

Marche and Salsber did not seem to notice this as they destroyed another crystal, the boy and the moogle both rushing up to attack another crystal. With a crashing sound, two crystals were left to be contended with, and the two of them ran straight for the one that Juris was not having trouble with.

The nu mou, meanwhile, was busy fending off an attack from Ocon, the monk madly sending his fists at him. It was bad enough that Juris could not get the concentration to cast a water spell on the crystal that had turned Ocon against him. The nu mou fervently dodged as a final crack came flying about.

And right when it seemed Juris would be overtaken by the charged monk, Marche rushed right at the crystal, and one slash from his blade was all it took to destroy the final crystal.

Ocon snapped out of his charmed frenzy almost instantly, the bangaa looking up and then around to find that he had in fact been charmed.

Before he could comment, however, the color around them peeled away, and suddenly they found themselves suspended in the air, exactly as with Famfrit. An apparition of the little boy dressed in royal clothing appeared, and Ocon was quite shocked at seeing this.

"_No... No... Why am I remembering all of these horrible names?_" cried out the voice of the little prince. "_I'm the prince... people wouldn't dare...!_"

"What is this rambling?" cried out Juris.

Before Marche could answer, though, the four of them felt themselves get pulled through space, and suddenly they were back on Roda Volcano, watching the magma bubble around them as if nothing had happened.

Ocon looked over to Juris, the holy man very confused as to what had just happened. He opened his mouth to ask what had occurred, but shut it again before thinking.

"We don't know either," replied Marche. "All we know is that they're guarding something that's merging our world and your world into the same place."

The poor bangaa was even more confused by this. "What do you mean?" he asked. "Are you sssaying that God isss doing thisss?"

"Not God, no," replied Marche, thinking. "Something else did this."

Juris thought a little bit on the subject, scratching his chin when an idea ocurred to him.

"You were reading a book when the worlds merged, am I correct?" asked Juris.

Marche nodded. "Yeah, I was," he replied. "Why?"

The sage shrugged. "I was going to suggest that maybe a similar book could be found in Ivalice," he replied. "Whether it lies in folklore or in the true world, it matters not. Perhaps that might be a clue to what happened."

The human nodded. "It'll be more answers than these guys have been giving us," he replied.

Salsber then looked down from where he was perched on Marche's head, and suddenly noticed something in Juris' hand. "Hey, kupo, I think you got a tatoo!"

Looking down, Juris held up his hand and noticed that a tatoo of crystals had been etched onto his hand, the tatoo shimmering green as the group looked on.

"It looksss exactly like Sssalsssber'sss tatoo," stated Ocon.

Juris looked over to Marche and Salsber, face twisted in concentration. "And he chose to help you..." he recited.

Salsber shrugged. "Maybe these things just go with whoever's more kupopo, you know?" he asked.

"That may very well be," replied Marche. "Come on. We should get back to base."

And slowly, the group made its way across the treacherous walkway between magma, hoping to arrive home to a supporting clan group.


	21. Reality

Holy fucking shit, is this late. This'll teach me not to get sidetracked by ages-old projects that have been put on hold indefinitely.

Yeah, sorry, but the reason I wasn't updating this was because of something else.

Don't worry though! Now that that's out of the way and dusted, I can concentrate on other, more current projects.

Like this. So sorry about the delay, guys. But I'll repay it back with another story chapter! With, less important developments, but still, you get my point.

* * *

Reality

Salsber had an awful lot on his mind. And thankfully, some of his questions had been answered.

He knew then that the tatoo was a mark given to him by Famfrit that he could use to call for aid in extremely dire times. This much he had found out in Aisenfield. He also knew that any others who defeated totemas were going to get the mark on at least one person.

But one thing that puzzled Salsber about the whole set-up was what determined who got each totema. He was certain his questions would be answered soon enough, but he could not help but feel puzzled by why he had gotten a mark the first time but Juris had gotten it the second time. Why would it skip over him?

To be honest, the whole thing confused the moogle to no end, even as his small group headed on a mission to stop thieves of magic wood. Marche was leading the pack, and Salsber was pondering atop the head of the newly recruited Oigen. Amelia was walking right by him, and the sight of the moogle twins Nero and Evor annoying the poor human with their antics was bothering Salsber more than it usually did.

The nu mou on which Salsber was thinking on looked up at the moogle that had taken residence on his head. Sighing, he crossed his arms in front of him as Amelia's glance found itself trained on the moogle.

"You've been awfully quiet lately," said Oigen. "Especially for a moogle. Something on your mind?"

Salsber sighed. "I've been thinking, kupo," he said contemplatively. "I don't do it all that much, kupo, but still..."

"Then what are you thinking about?" asked Amelia, trying to be friendly. "Normally you moogles are much cheerier than this..."

"That we are, kupo," confirmed Salsber softly. "But I've been thinking about strange things that have been happening..."

Oigen raised an eyebrow as he walked. "Is this in relation to that strange tatoo on your hand?" he asked.

The moogle nodded in reply. "The events around it have gotten me to thinking," he said. "What if this place doesn't... you know kupo?"

"I'm afraid I don't quite catch your meaning," replied Oigen. "Would you elaborate?"

Salsber nodded grimly. "It's kupopo," he began. "But what it leads to is that I'm not sure... if anything on Ivalice is real, kupo..."

At this, Amelia brought a hand up to her mouth, thinking about the implications this might have. "Well, that's rather heavy stuff," replied Amelia. "Makes me wonder how you got there, but I probably shouldn't ask..."

Oigen rubbed his chin in thought before looking to Salsber. "Some people say that reality is only an illusion," he said. "Of course, that only applies to certain religions, but I figured it might help to know that."

Salsber shook his head, sitting up on Oigen's head. "That doesn't help, kupo," he replied. "It..."

"Let me put it this way," said Amelia. "Does it really matter what's real or what's not right now? We're still alive, right?"

Salsber contemplated what the viera had said for a few seconds. Upon thinking about it a little more, he realized that Amelia did have a point about this. Whatever had changed with the reality they were given, it had not involved anything that presented a noticeable danger to anybody, if only to make life harder. But Salsber figured that in another time and another place, that would have been very different.

"I guess so..." he replied.

"Then what's there to worry about?" asked Amelia, shrugging. "You're alive, and that's all that really matters."

The moogle nodded uncertainly. "I guess, kupo," he replied.

Oigen smiled softly. "You're certainly more contemplative than you generally let on," he commented.

Salsber tilted his head to the side. "I don't do it much, kupo," he admitted. "But when I do... my head always hurts after, kupo..."

"Well, thinking about reality is certainly not something that would leave your head in good health," replied Oigen. "But still, it's nice to know you do think about things from time to time..."

Salsber nodded, feeling a little better about himself. "Thanks, kupo," he said. "For talking with me."

"Any time," said Amelia cheerfully.

And the group moved on in the forest.

* * *

Later, Salsber was still thinking about the state of the reality that he was in. However, as the group walked out of Koringwood with a few prisoners in tow, the moogle had come to some peace of mind.

Reality had been warped badly, of course. He knew that just as well as anybody that had faced off against the totemas. To Marche, this was a false reality. To all else, reality was now barely the same as it was before. Everything should have been intact, but their prince was behaving oddly for a reason nobody could truly figure out.

But somehow, nothing seemed all that changed about it. The people around him still had memories of their lives before Marche came into their lives. They still remembered the old Ivalice, before the prince was taken over by some person that only Marche knew. And everybody outside of the clan seemed to have those memories too.

And in a few ways, Salsber had realized after heavy thinking that it was good that reality had bended like this. He would never have met some of the people in Nutsy if Marche had not been around to help greatly with accepting people into the clan. He would possibly never have gotten powers that had saved his comrades in battle a few times. There were many things that probably never would have been if not for the fact that the book that Marche had mentioned had been opened.

And for that, the gadgeteer realized that he did have to be thankful for something.

He only hoped that in the end, nothing would erase the memories he had of this time spent between the two realities. If that came true, everything would be better.

Salsber did not say any of this out loud, but given the expression on his face as they were lugging the prisners away, Oigen and Amelia decided not to bother the moogle with those kinds of questions.

The moogle had come to terms with how things were. And he was thankful for it too.


	22. Loyalty

Okay, so last time we got Salsber to think a bit. And thinking is always good. Especially for moogles.

Now, back to the actual story at hand, in which Marche runs into a certain royal subject...

* * *

Loyalty

Marche had gone to the Salikawood. Orsiny, Juris, and Ingg followed close behind, with Lutia and Cecille following at a distance. The group was there trying to find an emerald that belonged to the castle of the area.

So far, the group had been having no luck finding it. They had searched all around the nearby forest, the keep itself, and even the water, and they had no luck finding the emerald at all. Marche was beginning to see why the royal palace was giving up on the search, as the emerald had become inexplicably difficult to find.

So when they happened across a rather short nu mou during their search, they were not at all surprised. What they were surprised about, however, was that the nu mou was wearing royal garb. Seeing this, Lutia stiffened towards the back of the group. Cecille noticed this, and looked over to the nu mou, raising an eyebrow.

"Huh," she said. "I thought the palace had given up. And now they have someone here..."

"Not just anybody," replied Lutia, pointing at the nu mou. "The personal assistant of the prince! If what you have been saying is true, I hope Marche--"

"Halt!" cried the nu mou to the remainder of Marche's group. "These are grounds being inspected by the palace! What business do you have here?"

Cecille blinked nervously as Lutia trembled slightly. "I'm guessing it's too late?" she asked with a slight bit of trepidation.

"Oh dear..." Lutia replied, her voice even shakier than Cecille's. "I think I am ruined..."

The less royal viera shook her head and grabbed Lutia's wrist, coming close behind Marche and the others. The two of them came to a stop just behind Ingg, the group standing behind Marche.

"We're here because of a quest posted on the tavern, sir," replied Marche nervously.

"Someone left a rumor that the emerald of Salika Keep got lost, sir," added Orsiny a little more confidently. "The information at the pub said that you had given up, though..."

At this, the nu mou raised an eyebrow. "Preposterous!" he cried. "The prince has given no such orders! As it is, the emerald of Salika Keep is too important a relic to give up to mere commoners! Go forth at once and erase this error!"

"Yes, sir," replied Orsiny bowing lightly.

Lutia was twiddling her fingers nervously, her hands resting on her new summon staff as Cecille glanced over to the viera. Knowing exactly what Lutia was afraid would happen, the viera knew that she had no real cause to worry anymore.

However, the stranger suddenly took another look at the blonde boy in the front of the pack. Blinking, he took a step forward.

"Just a minute," said the nu mou. "May I take a better look at the boy?"

At this, Ingg shot the nu mou a curious look. "What makes you ask--?"

"Need I remind you who I work for?" interrupted the royal man. "Come, boy. I want to get a better look at you."

Marche sighed nervously, looking over to the nu mou. He stepped forwards, the shorter one looking over the human. Humming slightly, Babus crossed his arms in front of him, revealing a mace in one of his paws.

"You match his description," said the royal servant.

At this, the group jolted. Marche, however, thankfully knew better than to let himself be caught off guard for too long. "Who's description, sir?"

"Prince Mewt's," replied the nu mou.

At this, Lutia nearly lost her composure. If not for the fact that Cecille had thought quickly and had gripped Lutia's arm with great force, she most likely would have fainted. The two vieras simply looked on as Marche rose an eyebrow, trying to keep his over as best he could.

Before anybody could comment, the nu mou contined. "Mewt has been seeing strange visions lately and telling me about memories even he never knew he had," replied the nu mou. "Ad he believes you are the cause of his suffering."

"Suffering?" asked Marche. "I just want to go home!"

This sentence was out of his mouth before anybody could say anything to deflect that. The blonde boy quickly covered his mouth before Babus rose an eyebrow. However, the nu mou brought his mace in a fighting stance.

"I do not know what you just referred to, but I will not allow my prince to go through any more suffering!" stated Babus. "Guards! Get them, and give me the blonde boy! Call engagement!"

And then, a group of four bangaa leapt out, their weapons at the ready as they rushed towards the group. Before Marche could draw his weapon, they saw a judge materialize out of the air. The whistle was blown, and then an engagement began.

"Damn it!" said Cecille as she drew her bow. "Imposing these kinds of laws was enough, but calling an engagement over just seeing a face? This is ridiculous!"

"We'll have to save the complaining for later," replied Orsiny. "For now, we have to make sure these people don't catch Marche."

Lutia was just shaking her head rapidly. "Oh, God, I'm ruined..." she whimpered.

This recieved a prompt slap to the back of the head from Cecille. The more pretentious viera gripped the back of her head in pain. Before she could retort, however, Cecille glared at her.

"Calm down," said the normally more reserved viera angrily. "It's not the end of the world. You are not going to die. And you are not going to get ruined as long as we have something to say about it. So shut the hell up and be of actual use before I 'accidentally' shoot you in the foot."

Lutia was silent at this, Orsiny looking at Cecille with a look of shock on his face. Shrugging and seeing that his work had been done, Cecille crept forward a little bit, drawing her bow. She set her sights on one of the bangaa that was guarding the royal servant, and creeping forward she drew an arrow. As she crept forward, she could not help but notice that only then was Marche drawing his weapon as the group spread out a little bit.

Finally, the viera let her arrow fly loose, and it hit the bangaa right on the neck. This was enough to send the poor soul falling to the earth. It was not enough, however, as the guard stood back up, but by this point Cecille knew that her turn was finished, so she stored her bow and got into a position that she could easily dodge attacks with.

Orsiny's turn came shortly after that. Drawing his saber, he ran towards the bangaa that Cecille had shot; with a yell, he raised his saber high in the air. The blade came down on the bangaa, and shortly after, the guard fell to the ground, having been knocked out according to the rules of engagement. The light sped towards Orsiny as he recieved a judge point, and then Marche felt himself stumble forward, his turn beginning.

As his turn began, however, Babus came forward, holding his hand up.

"Hold," said the nu mou. "I have one last question."

Marche paused briefly, his blade taut in his hands. "Yes?" asked the boy.

"When you said 'home', what did you mean?" asked Babus.

The blonde shook his head. "This place isn't what you used to think it is!" replied the boy. "It's been fused with another dimension! And I'm not from this place, and neither is prince Mewt!"

"Preposterous!" cried Babus. "I have been serving Prince Mewt for my entire life!"

"It's not the prince Mewt you know that is in that body!" replied the human desperately. "Someone else is in your prince's mind, and he is living in this world as a fantasy!"

Babus let out a hearty laugh, however, with Lutia casting a sideways glance at the other five in her clan, who had somehow not flinched during this shouting match.

"This is precious!" gloated the royal servant. "I shall have you tried for insanity! The prince is not who I think he is! Guards! Once we capture this boy, we'll have him put on the stocks of Berevinia for his deluded ideas!"

"It's true!" cried Orsiny, trying to defend his clan leader. "Some of us have seen things you would never believe!"

"And they are all the most fantastic things you can think of!" expounded Juris. "Listen to him, for he speaks the truth!"

The guards only laughed at the blue mage and the sage as well, however, for they were past the stage of talking to the opposing clan. Marche shook his head, realizing how hopeless his situation was.

The clan would have to fight their way out of this particular situation. And they all knew it would not be a good day afterwards.

The human simply shook his head, jumping at Babus swiftly. The boy brought his blade down on the nu mou, dealing quite a bit of damage. It was not enough to make the nu mou unbalanced by any means, but any damage could do for Marche. He would have done more, but he knew that his turn had ended and he could not do much else. Thankfully, it was also Lutia's turn, so Marche knew he could at least get a little more damage, even if it was minimal at best.

The summoner looked rather afraid of what was happening, and she clutched her staff nervously as she came up slowly. Scanning the field, the viera decided to go after the bodyguards around Babus instead of the nu mou himself. And so, she raised her staff nervously, not sure what spell she wanted to cast. When she decided on summoning Ramuh, however, she muttered the chant ever so softly.

Despite this, however, a bright light still came out, and from above a very old man appeared. Lighting then coursed down on the group of guards that Lutia had summoned, greatly damaging two of them and managing to knock out one of them as the bolts rained down on the guards. Lutia felt a slight bit of confidence seeping back into her being as she saw this, and the light rushed from the judge to her as she felt a little more confident.

She still earned a well-placed glare from Juris and Ingg, however, both of whom were clearly not amused at how timid Lutia had been.

And they had good reason to, for then the bangaa guards had their turn. Being as far away from the group as they were, they were only able to move during their turn. However, they stopped short, and one of them actually had the chance to hit Marche with a spear. The attack missed, but the group knew they were in bad hands if they moved.

And then, it was Babus' turn. The nu mou grinned wickedly as it looked to Marche.

"You shall pay the price for your insolence!" he cried as he raised his mace high in the air.

The royal servant promptly began to chant loudly as he pointed his mace at Marche. As he chanted, however, a growing sense of dread began to fill Cecille, wondering what spell the nu mou was chanting up.

Her question was answered promptly, however, for then as soon as the nu mou stopped chanting, the entire area dakened considerably. Clouds reigned supreme, with bands of multi-ccolored light meandering their way in between the clouds. Cecille's eyes widened considerably, knowing that whatever came next would probably do quite a bit of damage to the whole group.

It slowly began to get colder, however, and then a strange kind of crystallic rain began to fall onto the group. Looking up, the sniper suddenly noticed a heavy shroud of darkness falling upon them, such that the aurora above faded out of existence. And as soon as the darkness took over, Cecille felt a very strong force hit her in the side. She stayed put from the pain, but suddenly, she found herself frozen in place gradually.

And when the darkness faded, she looked down to her horror to see that she was frozen not by ice, but by time standing still. She was unable to move even her eyes to glance up from the ground so she could see if the rest of the clan had survived the attack without finding themselves in a similar predicament.

It also left her to try to piece together exactly what happened as she heard the sounds of people taking their turns. She thought she was able to hear Juris cast a spell at one point, but exactly what spell it was evaded her given that she could not see what was happening. She heard to bangaa groans as well on two separate occasions, and she desperately hoped that one of the bangaa that had been taken down was not Ingg.

She then heard a nu mou groan loudly in pain, Cecille desperately hoping it was not Juris or anybody else. She thought she could feel the spell that had stopped her being used again, and indeed when the darkness took over she realized that she was going through the spell again. She only hoped it would not add to her being stopped already, and she hoped that everybody else had made it out of the spell without having been stopped.

And after hearing a particularly loud groan of pain from the nu mou, Cecille found she could move again.

When she looked up, she noticed that Juris and Lutia were both stock still, the sniper guessing because they had been affected by the stop. Ingg, Marche, and Orsiny were still moving, however, and the two bangaa guards that were left had been taken down. The sniper looked at the bow in her hands and realized that it was her turn.

Seeing Babus, the viera realized she had to do something to bring him down. Orsiny would not move unless she did first, and she knew from a cursory glance that Babus was close to being taken down. Thus, she drew an arrow, and crept around the field slowly. Babus' side was facing her, and she knew that if she just took a few steps away, the nu mou would not see the projectile coming since she would be aiming at his back. And thus, it would be more likely for her arrow to hit.

And so, she took those few steps in that direction and aimed her bow at the royal servant. She hoped that things would be all right, and then she let the arrow fly.

The arrow hit Babus in the back, the nu mou not turning fast enough. The servant then fell to the ground, and he did not get up for a brief period of time.

As soon as the light of a judge point was heading towards Cecille, the judge cried out that Clan Nutsy had won the engagement, and then promptly vanished.

"Right," said Orsiny. "Now let's get out of here before they wake up!"

As Juris and Lutia unfroze quickly, the group of six bolted away from the middle of the Salikawood as fast as their feet were able to carry them.

* * *

As soon as they were a good distance away from the royals, Marche turned to the rest of his clan.

"That was close," stated the boy.

Ingg looked back to where they had just run away from. "That won't be the lassst we'll sssee of them, that'sss for sssure..." he replied.

Lutia instantly threw up her arms in despair. "I'm ruined!" she cried. "I'm ruined!"

"Oh, bloody hell..." replied Cecille, shaking her head. "Lutia, you are not ruined yet! You will be if you ditch the clan here. So unless you want to ruin all of us as well, shut up, and take it like a proud viera would!"

Silence permeated the group as Cecille shot a glare at her fellow viera. Intimidated by a combination of fear the glare that Cecille was giving her, she raised her arms up in defeat.

"Thank you, Cecille," said Orsiny. "Now... the palace will definitely come after us after this incident. Now that Babus knows that we exist, I don't think there is a limit to how low the palace can go to get us..."

"That's true," said Marche. "But I don't want to trouble you guys. So if anyone who wants to leave now can do so. And I won't get mad at you."

At this, the other clan members showed varying expressions of shock at the human. Orsiny looked at Marche wide eyed, with everybody else shooting glances at the human in surprise.

"Now what makes you say that?" asked Juris.

Marche shrugged. "Well, it's me he wants, so you all would just get caught in the crossfire..." he replied.

Ingg was quick to retort. "Nonsssenssse!" he proclaimed. "We've already been ssseen helping you, ssso we can't jussst run off like that!"

"We would be a larger danger to everybody else if that was so," pointed out Juris.

"That might be true..." replied Marche. "But it doesn't change a whole lot for the clan that wasn't with me today... Actually, I should just leave you guys."

"And what good would that do?" asked Cecille.

Marche looked to the viera. "It would keep you all safe while I try to get my world back the way it was!" he replied. "I can't just be a burden to all of you! You're not even part of my world, so I'm not sure why you're still keeping your feet in my matters!"

"Look," said Cecille. "Just because you miss your home doesn't make any of us lower than you, okay?"

Marche blinked, dumbfounded at Cecille's suggestion. "I'm not saying that at all!" he cried. "I just don't think you should be doing something like this!"

"And why not?" asked Cecille.

"Because Ivalice is your own world, and I have mine!" he said. "And I think I'm the only one with enough knowledge to do that, so I should hound out all of the spots on my own! Why can't you just leave me alone and respect my decision?"

"Because we're your friends."

The simple reply from Orsiny caused heads to turn in his direction. All eyes were on the blue mage as he crossed his arms and kept an intent gaze on Marche. The former student of the Cadoan academy nodded.

"See, we trust you Marche," continued Orsiny when he noticed nobody would give him a counter argument right away. "And part of that trust is that we know that you will tell us what's wrong and why your life sucks. We already know that. But the thing that separates a true friend from a false friend is that true friends always stay by the sides of the people they feel so strongly about. And frankly... this isn't something you should handle by yourself."

"Orsiny has a point," added Juris. "We have already seen and heard much more than any other clan on Ivalice has up to this point. And we know that this is not just your problem; it is a problem for all of us as well, given that the mind of one of your friends from this world has posessed the mind of the prince to our detriment. So unless we aid you in finding a way to bring back our world as well, we are at as much of a loss as you could be if you went alone."

Ingg raised his hands in the air. "Besssidesss, we've been together sssinssse the beginning," he added. "That would be a big problem if we left you now, of all timesss, essspesssially sssinssse we "

"So please, just let us help you," finished Orsiny.

Marche looked around to the clanspeople that were around him. Seeming lost in thought, he smiled a small smile as he looked to everyone.

"I guess we're in this for the long haul..." he said.

"Yep," replied Cecille. "That would pretty much sum up the situation..."

The boy nodded. "Okay," he said. "I'll stay with you guys then. And I'll let you help."

The others nodded. "A better choice," said Juris with a small smile. "Come on. Let's go see what else we can find in our search for clues..."

And with this, the group of them left the Salikawood entirely. Lutia was a little bit hesitant, but remembering some of what Cecille said, she followed along, even if it was with a little more trepidation than everybody else in the clan.


	23. Addramalech

Yep. So last time the clan affirmed that it would stand by Marche no matter what.

So let's see what happens when we run into the next totema, shall we?

* * *

Adrammalech

"Oh, damn it kupo, you know I'm afraid of ghosts!"

"Calm down, Salsber. Things aren't that bad..."

"Essspesshially when we consssider that you have usss here..."

"Take heart, Salsber. We will improve our situation soon."

The moogle nodded in the darkness.

Marche had taken a job to investigate the appearance of a ghost in the Nargai Cave. Nearly a week had passed since Babus had first encountered the clan, and it was only then that Marche had decided to leave his room for the first time. The others that were in Marche's clan agreed to stay with him even if a bounty by the palace was imminent. Some of the clan members had made their fear quite obvious, but nobody had made any moves to leave in the week that Marche had stayed holed up in his room. And for this, the blonde was very thankful. Thus, to show his appreciation, he had decided to take up a job, and so had brought Salsber, Oigen, Ocon, Amelia, and Orsiny with him to the Nargai Cave.

Of course, Salsber had to make his fear of ghosts known right when they got to the cave. That would be a small annoyance, but knowing that the moogle would still be there despite this gave Marche a bit of a boost. Ocon was also partly afraid as Orsiny was quick to point out, but the priest had insisted on facing his fear.

And so, Marche and his five companions moved slowly around the cave, looking this way and that as they held up a torch that was reflected many times over by the crystals that littered the cave.

They had moved a bit forward when suddenly, an ethereal blue light appeared in front of the group. It gave off the shape of a blue flame, and it moved slowly forward. It then phased out of existence briefly, seemingly inviting the group forward.

Intrigued rather than outright frightened, the group advanced, walking forward ever the more slowly as they wondered where it would appear next.

The ghost then materialized right by the group's side, and then it hovered a little farther away, coming to a halt.

Ocon came forward, his eyes looking over the ghost as he slowly approached it. The bangaa advanced forward ever so slowly until he was standing directly next to the apparition.

"Odd..." said the bangaa. "I'm looking at a ghossst, and yet I am not afraid..."

"Now that you say it like that, kupo..." added Salsber.

The ghost slowly dematerialized from their sight as the group looked on in some strange sense of awe.

And then, a portion of the world was seen surrounded by something black, the blackness distorting what they were seeing before disappearing.

"Oh dear!" said Marche. "I think we've come onto another piece of the World Thread!"

Before Oigen or Amelia had the chance to ask, the blackness appeared again and swallowed all around it.

* * *

And once again, the group found themselves in the same expanse of nothing as they had encountered at every encouter with a totema. Amelia and Oigen were both very confused at this, and so they looked to Salsber in their confusion.

"What... exactly just happened?" asked Oigen.

As Salsber began to explain away to the two very confused friends, Marche looked to the Crystal.

"There it is..." said the boy. "The crystal..."

"Right..." said Orsiny as he looked at the crystal as well. "Say, Marche, how much will our world change once we destroy this and the remaining two crystals?"

"I'm not sure, honestly..." replied the boy as he walked forward. "But... if this one is as helpful as the others, we'll get our answer to that..."

And sure enough, the form of a grand dragon materialised before the group. Salsber had just finished summarizing what had happened to Amelia and Oigen, and so everybody looked to the dragon as it looked at the group. Its green scales shone strangely in the void, rather long tail gracefully weaving behind it as its yellow eyes pierced the night. Ocon shivered slightly as the dragon faced them down, smoke coming out of its nostrils as it breathed in and out rather heavily.

"Speak, those that intrude upon the crystal!" boomed the voice of the dragon. "What is thy quest?"

"I want to return things to the way they were!" said Marche. "And more importantly, I wanna go home!"

"And yet, to do that, you must break the crystal that Addramalech guards," stated the dragon.

Salsber jumped onto Marche's head. "That's not what the other two ended up doing, kupo," shouted the moogle, showing his tatoo. "They ended up helping us, kupo!"

Addramalech seemed genuinely surprised by the moogle's brand, and so it let out a snort. "I see..." he said. "So they have lent you their power. Rule of the strong, as I like to say. We aid those that have destroyed our crystals if they defeat us first..."

"So this whole 'end of the world' technique is your way of helping us?" asked Orsiny.

"It is also species specific," added Addramalech. "And should you defeat me, your priest will wield the power to destroy entire battlefields."

Ocon tensed; after attempting to stay out of the conversation, the fact that Addramalech explicitly mentioned 'priest' when he was talking about who else woud wield the totema's power. Gulping nervously, the religious man stepped forward.

"Me, sssir?" asked Ocon. "Why me? I am but a holy man, and to unleassh an apocalyptic sssituation on the battlefield would be a grievousss sssin! There mussst be a way to bypasss thisss!"

"Given that I must be destroyed to destroy the crystal, you must deal with the responsibility on your own." The guardian of the crystal's tail moved slightly. "However, upon seeing that a holy man could be my carrier, I could not ask for a more worthy person to know my power."

Ocon blinked, just the slightest bit confused as to how Addramalech could suppose this. As he did, Orsiny crossed his arms in front of him, looking to the guardian of the crystal. Frowning, he kept one hand on his saber.

"So, if the balance is destroyed, does everything go back to normal?" asked Orsiny. "Will the two worlds go back to exactly the same way we were before?"

Addramalech began to lumber forward slightly, powerful legs hitting the stone floor powerfully as he did. "The break of the balance is an odd thing," replied Addramalech. "Both worlds will break and become seperate again. However, all people from both worlds will retain their memories of what happened when the balance breaks. And the book shall change worlds once again..."

At this, Marche rose an eyebrow, very curious as to what Addramalech had meant. "The book will change worlds?" he asked. "What does that mean?"

"You shall find out," replied the guardian. "For now, prepare yourself!"

And as two other dragons mateialised closer to the group, the clan looked to each other.

"Well," said Amelia. "Let's see what happens here..."

They drew out their weapons, and eyed the two dragons hesitantly. The two of them were colored a very bright shade of yellow and blue, and both looked ready to tear Marche and his companions apart. Oigen eyed one of them nervously, and he was the first to move.

The others took this as a signal to begin the attack, and so they were on the two dragons in a heartbeat.

Marche was the first to land a blow. He narrowly dodged a claw swipe from the blue dragon, and managed to get his own swipe with his blade while he was at it. The dragon reeled a little bit, roaring in anger. However, this had distracted the creature long enough for Orsiny to run beside it to cast a spell. The spell summoned a large turquoise tornado around the dragon, and the dragon roared in pain as it suddenly felt weakened considerably.

Oigen took advantage of the distraction. While Amelia casted a spell to protect the beastmaster from harm, he gave a signal to the others to ignore the yellow dragon. Slowly, the beastmaster moved closer to the yellow dragon, and with some trepidation began to play a song on a small harp that he carried with him. The song seemed to get the dragon's attention, and as the nu mou played its eyes glazed over. Finally, the dragon stood taut, and looked at Oigen obediently.

Amelia nodded, smiling as she watched the dragon lumber away towards where the blue dragon was.

Salsber, meanwhile, had opened one of his gadgets, and then a coin landed at his feet. At once, the battlefield was alight with oddly colored lights and the slightest imprint of red gears. And suddenly, everybody in Marche's group felt insanely invigorated, such that they were all moving incredibly fast.

This gave them time to get out of the way as the yellow dragon approached its companion. The dragon that had lost control of its mind inhaled as the ice dragon eyed it suspiciously. Before either could do anything, however, the yellow dragon exhaled. A strange lightning darted out from its mouth then, and it shocked the blue dragon into a state as the bolts electrified the enemy. And then, the dragon fell over, having fallen to the electric breath.

This caused Oigen to lose his hold on the thunder dragon, and then it looked down at its comerade. It let out a defiant roar, and turned to face the rest of the group.

By this time, however, it was a little too late. Amelia had begun by casting a fire spell on the unfortunate dragon, and then Salsber jumped on top of its face in the distraction. The moogle clawed away at the dragon, and Marche was quick to rush in with the blade. He landed a few slashes as Orsiny casted a spell on the dragon to weaken it further. After a while of this, the dragon was able to get its bearings, and it threw Salsber off and right into Oigen. However, the dragon had failed to notice Ocon standing in the sidelines, and the priest quickly casted a spell. The spell entrapped the dragon in a spherical body of water, and the dragon was left struggling for air for a brief second. The water was quick with its work, however, and it quickly rended through the dragon while inside the body of water, and the dragon suddenly fell limp.

It was at this that the water finally disappeared, and the thunder dragon was left falling to the ground.

The group had no time to cheer, however, for then they suddenly turned and found that Addramalech had gotten closer while they had been busy dealing with his underlings. Frowning, they watched the dragon advance, and without a warning they hoisted their weapons back up, Amelia drawing her rapier as they all looked at the mighty dragon.

Marche simply looke at the dragon with a determined look on his face, Amelia being quick to cast a quick spell to protect everybody as much as her magic was able to. Ocon was quick to cast his own spell to do the same thing, all parties knew they would need it.

The group was the first to rush into the fray, Marche rushing forward and bringing his blade on the hard flesh of the dragon totema. Salsber and Oigen soon joined in with their own attacks as Orsiny, Amelia, and Ocon stayed back. Every so often, however, the group attacking offensively was knocked back by the dragon. Salsber would always land on his feet, but the dragon always took this time to breathe a very long-range breath of fire at the group. It effectively sent everybody scattering, and it was quite powerful. This was not to say that they were having an easy time of it anyway; Salsber found that he could barely do much to Addramalech other than to distract him, and Oigen found the same thing happening to him. The fact that they were all cluttered around claustrophobically also made spell casting quite difficult. Amelia often feared that she would hit her friends with her spells, and Ocon often feared he would accidentally help the creature. For safety, all the magic casters always waited until Addramalech had knocked the melee fighters away before casting their magic on the dragon, but they still could not be too careful.

Eventually, though, they began to see results when Addramalech gave the appearance of tiring out. Marche was also tiring, however, but he had the aid of his friends, who were doing all they could. Eventually, a powerful spell from Orsiny was able to bring the giant to a point where he was hardly able to fight anymore.

And then, Marche rushed forward, seeing this and gritting his teeth. The boy brought his blade into a slashing motion, and beore Addramalech could comprehend what happened, he felt great pain in his abdomen as Marche landed a that embedded most of the side of his blade into the dragon.

It let out a great roar as it slowly disintegrated into nothing. The dragon vanished slowly, and as the group watched there seemed to be an aura extending behind him. The area soon went dark, the six of them feeling suspended in the air just as it was with Famfrit and Ultima. Slowly the apparition of Prince Mewt hovered high overhead. The prince was grabbing his head, almost in grief as the group looked at him.

"No... No..." wailed the prince. "Momma is not dead! She can't be dead! Momma! Momma!"

Marche blinked softly. "Mewt..." he whispered under his breath.

That was all they got to see, however, for then the room transitioned out of the space they had fought Addramalech and back into the dark scenery of the Nargai Cave.

The group was silent, standing in the darkness for quite some time before the group looked around and nodded.

"Well, that's totema number three," said Orsiny. "Only two more to go and we can return things to how they were..."

Oigen crossed his arms in front of him. "Has it occurred to any of you to look up this book that Addramalech metioned?" he asked.

"Yes," said Marche. "And in fact, we've been doing that since we ran into the second one. But so far we haven't had an luck..."

"Hm... Maybe there's something about it in the royal library?" suggeted Amelia.

Marche shook his head? "Me go there?" he asked. "With Babus there, I'm sure they'd rather stick a sword through me before they'd allow me to enter their library!"

"It might be the only thing we have..." said Amelia. "We'll have to explore our options..."

"It'sss not that, ssso much asss how are we going to get in?" asked Ocon.

The moogle in the group suddenly perked up. "Hey, wait, kupo!" he exclaimed sprightly. "Evor and Nero were telling me that one of their kupos from the academy was in the Inverness kupopo!"

At this, Amelia's eyes widened considerably. "You mean, they have connections to royalty?" she asked.

"Yeah, kupo!" exclaimed Salsber ecstatically. "He could be the one we need!"

"Excellent!" said Amelia, raising her finger in the air. "Then when we go to the pub, we'll have to keep an eye out for any missions asking for people to go to royalty. Because if we can find the royals there, we can probably find their connection!"

Marche nodded, smiling at this. "That sounds like a good idea!" he said. "I'll tell Evor and Nero when we get back to Cyril, then!"

Salsber jumped up gleefully before looking to Ocon. The priest seemed a little perplexed as he gazed down at his hand, and when the group moved closer, they were able to make out the very faint outline of a tatoo on the priest's hand in the darkness.

"Hey, he was right," said the blue mage. "He does have the mark."

"Then how come nobody else has it?" asked Oigen.

Marche shrugged. "Maybe it's race-specific?" he asked. "Salsber was the only one who got the tatoo when we faced Famfrit, and Juris was the only one who got it when we faced... Ultima, I think it is. So maybe it picked Ocon because he's a bangaa?"

"Well, now that you do mensshion it, the ssspirit of the bangaa isss represssented by a dragon," said Ocon. "Ssso maybe that isss it..."

The rest of the group shrugged. "We'll have to see how that goes," said Oigen. "For now, I think we would do well to get out of this cave."

The others nodded. "I couldn't agree more," said Orsiny.

And the group slowly left the darkness of the caves behind, quickly going out into the light, the fight with Addramalech fresh on their minds...


	24. Jagd

Okay, so last time we dealt with Addramalech. Fun times abound.

Now that that's over with, though, we've got two more to deal with. But first, we have to discover the jagds! So let's go down and meet up with Montblanc, who we haven't seen in a while. Maybe the first first-person prompt of the Plotlines thing? Maybe. Let's check it out...

* * *

Jagd

* * *

I'm not feeling too confident about this, kupo. But, Nono said so, so I've gotta do what he says. I am a pretty good brother like that, kupo.

"Hey, Montblanc, you okay?"

Marche doesn't think I'm all that fine, kupo.

"I'm okay, kupo," I said. "A little nervous, but okay, kupo."

He isn't convinced. "We all are," he said. "Just know that we'll get through this, okay?"

I guess I've gotta agree with him, kupo. "Okay, kupo."

And we went on in the jagd. My brother Nono sent us to the jagd after we had gone to Port Baguba the first time around, kupo. He's sad because his airship got stolen by some uncool people. So we're there, trying to get it back. But, how do I not die?

That's a hard question to answer, kupo. So far, we've already lost track of Ocon, and we're now trying to find both him and the airship. I just hope he's okay, kupo.

I don't really like this place at all. It's all creepy and dirty, and I don't like it here at all... It's just in such bad shape... Why would anyone want a place like this in this country? I just don't get why places like this crop up at all, kupo. It's kind of sad, really.

And it's not all that great when we have to deal with all of those poor people, kupo! They're people too! Why can't we just keep them alive? It's just... They're not all good, but still, we've gotta be able ot help them somehow!

Still, this place kind of gives me the creeps. It's honestly no wonder these guys are like this, kupo! This just isn't cool!

We're still wondering the place, looking for that airship. Marche is talking with Orsiny, but I don't really care all that much what they're saying. I hope Ocon's okay, kupo...

Wait. Speaking of him, is that Ocon over there?

"Hey, it's Ocon!" shouted Orsiny.

It is!

"Ocon, kupo!" I cried out. "Over here, kupo!"

He saw us! And he's heading this way. But wait... who's that that's trailing him? I don't know, but... he seems pretty gritty... But it's one of us, kupo! That mean's he's cool.

"There you are..." he said. "I wasss wondering where you went."

"We're just glad you're okay," said Orsiny. "We were afraid you'd be killed."

"I almossst wasss," he said. "But thisss one helped me..."

The other kupo just stood there. "Who the fuck are you guys?"

What, kupo? What's he swearing for? "That's no way to talk to us, kupo!"

"Yeah, well, who the fuck are you to say that?" he asked.

Ocon rolled his eyes. "Nusssratt, relacksss," he said. "Thessse are my friendsss."

The new guy looks at all of us. I don't think he trusts us, kupo, but what can you do? He looks like he's been living here a while... Maybe we can show that these guys can become good people, kupo?

"Uh, hi..." said Marche. "I'm... I'm Marche."

Nusratt eyed him suspiciously, and then the fact that I was on his head. "What the fuck are you doing with him? Keeping him as your pet?"

Hey, that's not fair! "Hey!" I said. "I can think on my own, kupo! I'm just doing this because I don't need to walk, kupo!"

"Ya might as well walk, asshole," replied Nusratt. "It's good for your health, and you're still getting around this fucking dump."

Marche and Orsiny both glanced at each other, and I think they're a bit shocked, kupo. I'm just wondering how one of us picked up so much bad language, kupo!

"Well... they're just friends," offered Orsiny. "Your kind tends to do that when you make friends."

The guy gave us an odd look. Yeah, I don't think he likes us at all.

"Not here, we don't," he replied, glaring at me icily. "Listen, I'm only here so I can get the fuck out of this place. I'll make something perfectly fucking clear; I don't like you, or your fucking friend here. So don't talk to me. And if you do, I'm gonna blow your brains out." With this, he showed-- holy kupo, is that a gun? Oh my!

"Uh... okay, kupo," I said. "Whatever you want, kupo."

"And stop that 'kupo' bullshit," he said.

The other three glance at each other, not sure how to tell him. "Uh..." said Orsiny. "That's... also another thing your kind tends to do outside of this place."

And we all saw how displeased he was with that.

"Fuck a duck!" That was all the warning we got before he went into a tirade, kupo...

* * *

After we got him to calm down, we moved a little bit.

Turns out Nusratt knew which airship we were talking about. So that helps a lot, kupo. He may be mean, but he can be nice. He can change, after all! Or maybe he's just doing stuff...

So, now we finally found this thing! And it's all good, kupo! And, well, we stole it right back! So soon enough, we'll be back at base, going on and on about how we got the airship out.

But first, we've gotta get this airship out. And thankfully, I know how to pilot one of these things from what Nono told me, so we're going along the clouds now, kupo!

It's so that Orsiny is right there, kupo. Nusratt's somewhere else off by himself, and Ocon and Marche were talking. The blue mage is all excited, kupo! Or, so I think...

Or, wait, he is looking pretty excited, as he's looking around around him.

"So... Nono built all this?" he asked.

"Yep, kupo," I said. "We seem to be pretty good at building stuff like this, kupo."

Orsiny smiled. "Well, keep at it," he said. "This is pretty awesome!"

I looked at him. "You mean that, kupo?"

"Yep, Montblanc," he said. "Makes me kind of glad you came along, honestly. It's a little wierd seeing you back on the battlefield when you spend so much of your time back at the pub making sure we're all comfortable. But in the end, it's a good thing you came."

Aw, yeah, he likes this! "Well, this could be in the kupopo!" I said.

The blue mage nodded. "Then keep at it!"

I nodded, and then I flew the airship all the way to Port Baguba.

* * *

Well, we got the airship back to Nonopo, kupo! And he was all happy, kupo! I'm just glad he's al right now that he's got his airship back.


	25. Library

All right. So, last time we stepped into Montblanc's shoes for what I will admit is probably one of my weaker oneshots.

Ah, well. Not a whole lot we can do about that, eh? We'll have to see.

In the meantime, though, I think it's time that we got some exposition on what's going on with the book. So without further ado, this oneshot.

* * *

Library

Marche had been sitting silently in his room in the inn.

His mind mulled over the events of the previous mission. It was supposed to have been an exchange of information. Nothing overly harmful. Just two clans meeting together to talk about various things. That's all it should have been.

Instead, he had gotten the news that he had been placed on the palace's wanted list, and then they attacked him. It was fortunate he had brought some of the clan with him, for they helped the fighter ward off the opposing clan. But that was where he felt the good things ended. For now he knew he was hunted. And unfortunately for the rest of the clan, that meant they were being hunted as well. This thought troubled Marche, but the fact that he was on the list at all was startling to him.

True, he had expected himself to wind up on the palace's bounty list sooner or later what with having beat up Babus and all. But when he finally found out, there was something overly surreal about it. He could hardly believe it was so, and he had excused himself for almost an entire day in disbelief.

He shook his head, feeling a great tug at his conscience. The truth that he didn't want to admit to anyone was that he was not truly prepared to go home. He had come to form close bonds with his clanmembers, as they had all provided understandin that he was very sure Ritz would have denied him in his moment of need. It made him feel a lot less comfortable about leaving Ivalice, but he knew it had to be done if Mewt wanted to be truly happy.

The boy shook his head, not wanting to think too hard about it.

And then he heard the characteristic rapping on his door. Sighing, he looked to the door from where he sat on his bed.

"Come in," he said simply.

The door opened, and in strode Evor. The moogle was seeming as happy as ever, and he looked at Marche happily. The boy forced a smile out of himself, figuring that the moogle probably hadn't been informed about the fact that Clan Nutsy had a bounty on its head since he had been entertaining the royal Carlos.

"Hey, Nero," he said. "How'd that gig at the royalty go?"

"It went super awesome, kupo!" explained the juggler as he jumped onto Marche's desk. "But... I heard we've got a bounty on our heads, kupo... Are you okay?"

Marche shook his head. So the moogle had found out. His smile fell, and he shook his head.

"Not really," replied the boy truthfully. "Oh... I wish I could figure out what happened with that book..."

Evor's ears perked up, and then he jumped on Marche's shoulder.

"You won't have to worry about that, kupo!" said the moogle cheerfully. "One of our friends joined Nutsy, kupo!"

The boy glanced at the overly cheerful juggler. "What's that got to do with the book?"

"He's the oldest prince of the Inverness family, kupo!" exclaimed Evor. "He can get us into the royal library!"

At this, Marche shuddered violently. Quickly, he stood up, causing the juggler to lose his balance and fall to the floor.

"_What?_" he exclaimed, disbelief showing prominently in his features. "_Prince Nikolai of the Inverness family?_ How the hell did you do that?"

Evor picked himself up off the ground, brushing the dust from his clothes gingerly. "He was a friend of me and Nero when we were at Cadoan, kupo!" exclaimed the moogle. "And he doesn't mind this at all, kupo! In fact, he'd be willing to take a few people to the royal library next week!"

Marche stood there dumbfounded, looking at the overly cheerful moogle. A short silence held dominion in the air, the boy quite unsure of what to make of it. Nero looked at him expectantly, hoping that the clan leader's reaction would be pleasant. Or excited. Or a combination of the two.

Either way, Marche was undoubtedly shocked at this development, and all that was left to do was to figure out whether he was happy about it or not.

* * *

Marche had been a little distrustful of Nikolai at first, but at the end of the week, the prince of the Inverness family was heading to the royal library. Tagging along with him were Cecille, Oigen, Evor, Nero, and Hopper.

The four of them had decided to come along with the prince of the Inverness family. Nero and Evor were of course ever eager to stand by their friend from the Cadoan academy, Cecille had taken a liking to the three of them, and Hopper because he had become rather good friends with Nikolai over the course of the week that they had met in Cyril. None of them were really that into books, but the human didn't seem to mind. He was surrounded by pretty friendly company after all, and so he took the four of them to Berevinia. Marche had gone to investigate something in the viera town of Muscadet a few days earlier, so he was not with them.

Of course, the group of them had made themselves as presentable as they possibly could. Hopper had traded his dragoon armor for an outfit that looked as formal as he could get on a clanmember's salary, although he thought now that he had gotten a dress shirt a size too small as his muscular body was well defined in the short-sleeved blue shirt. The viera had settled for a rather long dress that was simple yet as elegant as she could. But knowing the dangers inherent in walking into a place where at least one person could recognize her, she had gone to a magician who had made a special pair of contacts that would change her eye color and also cut her hair prior to entering the palace to the point that she was almost unrecognizeable to the rest of the clan. Evor sat on her head, the jester outfit off while still sporting his makeup. Nero had found that he did not really need to change all that much, however, as mog knight uniforms were relatively formal by themselves.

But that was far from their minds as Nikolai led them to the royal library. As expected, there were a couple of guards that eyed the four clan members suspiciously. They stopped the group at the library doors, their eyes glancing at the four strangers tepidly.

"What are commoners doing here?" asked the guard.

Nikolai shook his head. "Relax," he said. "These four people are my friends, and they'll be under my surveillance the entire time we're in here."

"Really, sir Nikolai?" asked the guard. "How do you know them?"

"Mostly through the Cadoan academy," replied the illusionist, knowing that it was at least a half-truth. "We won't be too long, fear not. We just need to look up one bit of information that we are curious about and we'll be out of here."

The guards looked at each other before scooting to the sides of the door.

"Our apologies, milord," said the guard. "You and your friends may enter. But if they cause any kind of chaos..."

"I know the consequences of that," replied the human. "Trust me; I'm not foolish enough to attempt something like that."

And with this, Nikolai gestured to the four clan members. The five of them entered the royal library, the group noting how grand the entire thing was. Gold lined the halls, tall shelves of mighty cedar lining the expansive room. The group looked around in awe except for Nikolai, the four of them following him as best they could. They all looked around the library, taking in the grand details of the numerous tapestries left around the walls.

Hopper was the first to speak. "Thisss isss where you go to read?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes," replied Nikolai. "I will admit, though, it is a bit large for my taste..."

The viera chuckled, brushing a strand of white hair behind her ear. "Well, it is the largest library in all of Ivalice," she said. "I wouldn't be surprised, really."

"It'sss jussst ssso... grand..." said Hopper, glancing around with wide eyes, the blue orbs shining. "I've never ssseen sssomething quite like thisss..."

Nikolai shrugged. "I am just used to it," he said, simply. "Perhaps why it has lost some of its splendor..."

The bangaa was quick to cast an incredulous glance at the prince of the Inverness family, but Evor jumped onto Cecille's head and gestured towards the shelves. "Uh, kupo, wasn't there something we were looking to find out?" he asked.

Nikolai nodded. "Ah, yes," he said. "Now, this was about a book that he saw, right?"

"Yep," replied Cecille. "He said it was gold and had jewels on its cover. Or something like that."

"Either way, it resssulted in thisss messs," said Hopper with a shrug.

"Hm..." The prince rubbed his chin in thought, looking at the space between each shelf as he pondered about what information would be valid in talking about the book. "I can imagine this appearing either in the magic section or the mythology section..."

"That'll entail splitting up, won't it?" asked Cecille, knowing what that would mean.

"I shouldn't hope so," replied Nikolai. "Each shelf is arranged by the letter of the topic," he said. "So if it's magic and mythology, we shouldn't be too far from each other's line of site. So technically, that would mean I'm still supervising you."

"Good, kupo," said Nero. "So, to the M shelves?"

Nikolai shrugged. "Why not?" he asked. "Remember, thumb through each edition of what you find, and we might get lucky."

The group nodded, and then Nikolai led them between two of the grand shelves, the prince nodding as he indicated where the mythology section would be to Hopper and Cecille.

* * *

A short time later, the group had reconvened within the shelves, and the five of them had gone to find a table in the library to go through what they had found on the subject. There was a pile of books, and Nikolai, Cecille, and Hopper were all sitting at the table, looking through the books. Nero and Evor were content to sit on the table, reading through the books as well. They were mostly silent as they looked through, sometimes discarding a book when it proved to have no real information.

This had been almost every book they had checked out. Now, there was a rather large discard pile, such that Nero and Evor were having trouble trying to sit on the table they had picked out. A frown had taken up on the features of almost everybody involved, and as they began to set books aside, their frustration began to grow.

Finally, Cecille tapped the table lightly, getting the group's attention.

"Hey guys, I finally got something," she said, turning a book so its pages faced everybody else.

Everybody else stopped reading where they were, and looked at the open book in front of them. "What is it?" asked Nikolai.

"It's a folk tale, but it's the only thing we've got so far..." she said, gesturing to the pages. "What it says was that there's a hero to the common folk that stole from the rich and gave to the poor since the rich were so corrupt. But then, he found a book, and it transported him out of Ivalice never to be seen again. And then, the nobles seemed to completely change, and everyone was happy..."

Hopper rubbed his chin as Nero and Evor stood over the book. "Well, when you think about it, it matchesss what Marche hasss been sssaying about what'sss going on," he whispered. "He and two othersss get transssported here, and Prinssse Mewt gets taken over by sssomeone from Marche'sss world..."

Nero shook his head. "It doesn't add up, kupo," he replied. "It's going away from here, kupo. What's that gonna do for coming in?"

Nikolai frowned down at the book he was looking at, and quickly leafed a few pages back. "Well, here it talks about what I think might allude to this multiple worlds theory that this would hold true for," he said. "And it says here that there must be a key to another world, and that once it's used it will change hands..."

Hopper blinked, looking at the pile of books that had yet to be read. Looking at it, there was something written on one of the spines that had gotten his attention. "What wasss the hero'sss name?" he asked.

"It says something like Arthur," replied Nikolai, reading something. "Why?"

The bangaa then reached into the pile, pulling out the book that he had been keeping an eye on and gesturing to the words on the spine. Seeming to get his meaning, Nikolai nodded, and then the bangaa set the book down, thumbing through the table of contents.

"Okay," he said. "Thisss 'Arthur' perssson isss taken down asss a real hero."

"But that doesn't validate this story, kupo," replied Evor. "They just say he disappeared, right, kupo?"

The bangaa had already leafed to the end of the tale in question, and he nodded. "Yesss," he said. "But maybe we have an anssswer asss to why he would do that..."

"Hold on..." said Cecille. "Marche told me of a legend from his own world. It was the tale of a man with exactly the same name. King Arthur, ruler of Camelot, wielder of Excalibur..."

"Like that one sword here, kupo!" pointed out Evor.

"But what does that say?" asked Nikolai.

Cecille shrugged. "Maybe it's the same person," suggested the viera. "It's crazy, but then again, so is this whole situation that's going on."

"Ssso you're sssaying thisss 'Arthur' read a book with a bright red jewel and got transported to another world?" he asked.

"Something like that," replied the viera, nodding.

Nikolai shrugged. "It is highly improbable," he stated simply. "But about that, there is not a whole lot we can do if we want to be perfectly honest with ourselves. Let us keep this situation in mind, and be aware of any books fitting that description that might be left around Ivalice..."

Hopper nodded. "That sssoundsss like the only plan left," he said. "Or... hang on..."

"What is it?" asked the prince of the Inverness family.

"Maybe..." he suggested. "Maybe the one who opened the book hasss it?"

Cecille scrunched her face up slightly, thinking. "It's possible," she said simply. "But... Mewt was the one who opened it... so how would we check it?"

Nikolai shrugged. "These days, he is not letting anybody into his quarters," he said.

"We'll have to play it by ear, then, kupo," said Nero with a shrug.

Cecille smiled. "All right," she said. "So we're talking about a book that constantly changes hands between two worlds that has been doing this before we came along. I think we have what we came here for."

Hopper nodded, standing up. "Right," he said. "Now let'sss put thessse booksss away and get out of here."

And the group did exactly that, picking up the books they had checked out and slowly walking back to the relevant shelves to put them away again.

* * *

When the group left the library, no sooner had they walked away from the entry to the library than they suddenly noticed a rather regal man walking around in armor, still strapping some of it on as he moved down the corridor. Seeing this, Nikolai's brow perked up in confusion. Sensing this confusion, Hopper looked down at the human.

"Judgemaster Cid?" he asked, looking at the judgemaster oddly. "Is something the matter?"

The judgemaster turned, looking at the group and raising his eyebrow. "Prince Nikolai?" he asked. "What are you doing here? I thought you were busy?"

"I found some time to come back," replied the prince. "It also helped that I needed to check something with my friends here..."

The judgemaster nodded, regarding the other four in the group with a smile and a nod. "Ah, I see," he said. "A pleasure, friends of the Inverness family."

Ivalice's highest judge bowed down to the group politely. Surprised out of their minds, the group bowed back in a polite gesture.

"A pleasssure, Judgemassster," said Hopper with a smile.

"What's with the armor, kupo?" asked Nero, pointing at it.

The judgemaster looked down at himself. "Oh, I have to head to Sprohm soon," he said. "They finally captured the leader of Clan Nutsy in Muscadet."

A shiver went down Nikolai's spine, and the group nearly paled at the thought. The only thing keeping their composure together was that they knew they would be in very bad hands should their cover be blown. The prince simply raised an eyebrow, looking at the judgemaster curiously. "Did they?" he asked.

"They did," he said. "I'll have to be in Sprohm soon. I will have to interrogate this boy and see what happens..."

Nikolai nodded, feeling terrible for some of the things he was about to say. "Well, good luck with proving he is insane..." said the illusionist.

Cid shook his head before fixing the straps on some of his armor. "We're not trying to prove he's insane," he said. "Whatever is happening, it is affecting the prince. There is no need to prove he is insane when we know his presence is hurting the prince. I'm merely going to ask him to stop what he is doing and why he would do such a thing in the first place."

"I dunno..." said Cecille, playing along since she knew she would be suspect if anybody in the palace knew who she was. "I hear that he's raving about certain things..."

The judgemaster shrugged. "Until then, we'll be finding the clan's hideout," he said. "We'll just be bringing in the rest of the clan for questioning in case the boy puts up a fight. And for now, we have troops positioned around the inn they call their headquarters, and we shall invade it at a moment's notice so we can make our interrogations go smoothly."

At this, the group nearly lost their cover. They all knew about the brutality that occurred in Sprohm when people were brought in for questioning, and so knew that they and the rest of the clan was in very palpable danger. They were thankful they had gotten out of Cyril beforehand, but they still knew they were in trouble. And so, Nikolai nervously shifted his hat slightly, looking at the judgemaster.

"Do be careful with them, then," pleaded the prince nervously. "I don't believe the clan did anything wrong."

The judgemaster nodded. "I don't believe so either," he said. "But the prince insisted. Don't worry, Nikolai: I'll try to make sure they're made to be as comfortable as possible during questioning."

This assurance did not make the clan members feel any better, but they decided it was better than nothing. And so, they nodded, the group nearly having blanched in shock.

"Be careful, kupo," said Evor with a nod.

"I will," said the judgemaster.

And with this, Cid walked off, disappearing down the hall, his walk giving off an air of grandeur as he moved down the hallway.

And as soon as the judgemaster had walked off, the group turned to itself, and then everybody's faces paled considerably.

"Shit..." whispered Cecille, being mindful of the reverberation in the halls. "They've got the clan surrounded at the inn..."

"Thisss isss bad..." whispered Hopper, worry showing as his eyes constricted. "And I don't think we can go anywhere without anyone sssaying who we are..."

"What're we gonna do, kupo?" asked Evor. "I don't wanna go to the mean place, kupo!"

"Especially not when there are nasty people there, kupo!" said Nero.

Nikolai glanced behind him to make sure none of the guards were evesdropping before nodding to his friends.

"We can try staying at my family's house just outside of the palace," he suggested.

Hopper shot an incredulous glance at Nikolai. "What'll that do?" he asked.

"It'll likely keep us safe," replied the lutanist. "You may not trust me, but I trust my family. I told them my darkest secret, and so far they have not said a word about it."

Cecille rose an eyebrow at this. "Darkest secret?" she asked. "What would you need to hide?"

"If they told, there would be a major scandal," replied Nikolai vaguely. "But that's not important. What is important is that I know they will be willing to hide you four in their home until all this ends. And better yet, they have enough influence to keep the populace quiet. So it's perfect."

The others glanced at the illusionist. "Ssso let me get thisss ssstraight," he said. "We're going to hide, right neckssst to the palassse?"

Nikolai shook his head. "It is the only option I can see if we want to keep the public off of our back," he replied. "Please. I know my family won't betray me."

"He's right, kupo," added Nero in the prince's defense. "His family is really, really, really nice, kupo. And they were fine with me there, too, kupo. We'll be fine, kupo!"

The others looked at the prince, desperation in everybody's eyes. It was a tough decision, and a silence hung over the group as they contemplated how to reply. It was very risky, but they knew that it was the only option they had. Finally, Cecille nodded.

"Okay," she said. "I'll take your word for it, Nikolai."

"I'm not to sssure thisss'll work..." said Hopper. "But if it isss the only option we have..."

"All right," said Nikolai, nodding to Evor and Nero. "Now, follow me, and do not say a word until I tell you it is all right."

With silent nods, the group followed the noble as they left the palace, taking a second to regain their composure before the guards could see the blatantly shocked expressions on their faces.

* * *

Quite some time later, Nikolai had arrived at the gates of the Inverness house. He had just spoken to the guards to get his mother and father out of the house to greet them. The hat had gone off, and now his bright red hair fell behind him. Hopper found it difficult to tear is eyes away from the sight of his hair, and he was doing his best to look forward. But every so often, he had to catch a glance of the illusionist's hair. It was something the bangaa was not used to, as he had never seen hair that was quite so attractive in his life. If anybody else had noticed this, they hadn't said anything about it then, so he assumed he was doing okay in trying to keep his gaze trained away from Nikolai's hair.

And fortunately for him, his musings were cut off when the gates of the Inverness house opened. Out came two older people, a woman rushing towards Nikolai. Behind her trailed an older man and a teenage girl that looked at the group. The teenage girl sported shorter red hair that was tied back, with the parents both exhibiting aged shades of the bright crimson color. Their royal robes flowed behind them as they approached the group, with relieved expressions on their faces.

"Mother!" exclaimed the illusionist as he slowly approached the older woman.

"Oh, Nikolai..." sighed the woman as she caught the illusionist in a hug. "I thought you were still with the people..."

"So did I," said the teenage girl. "I thought you were with them?"

"I am," replied the illusionist. "But something happened, and I'll have to stay here for a few days."

"It'sss our clan, madam..." added Hopper, feeling a little brave as he, Cecille, and the two moogles came forward. "We're part of that boy Marche'sss clan..."

The older man came forward slowly, looking at Nikolai. A frown took over his features as he heard Hopper's defense, and he crossed his arms, his gaze turning in the direction of the very visible palace as he shook his head.

"Bloody hell," he swore under his breath. "Always with the brutality... It makes me sick to hear of what the prince is doing to the clans of Ivalice just to get one person..."

Cecille heard this, and she rose an eyebrow at the older man. "So you're not trying to sell us out?" she asked.

At this, both father and mother jerked violently, looking at the viera. "Sell out a friend of our son?" asked the mother. "Absolutely preposterous! I think the way that the prince has been handling your clan is ridiculous, as well."

"I'll sssay..." said Hopper, sighing softly. "It'sss kind of sssad, really..."

The teenage girl shrugged. "Well, if I do say so myself, sometimes these people can be really odd," she said. "But especially the prince! I keep telling mother that Remedi should really stop spoiling him the way she does..."

"We can tell the effects of that," replied Cecille. "I can't believe this is all happening."

"Neither can I," replied the woman with a hint of levity in her voice. "I finally get to meet the common people! Shame that it's under these circumstances."

Nikolai rolled his eyes, smiling softly. "Anastasia, you really couldn't resist, could you?" he asked.

The younger girl looked to the illusionist, her own red hair bobbing slightly. "What?" she asked. "It's interesting to say the least."

Evor seemed to look hopeful from where he sat perched on Cecille's head. "So we can stay, kupo?" he asked.

"Of course," replied the older man slowly.

Nodding, Cecille and Hopper bowed, the moogles nodding their heads in thanks. Nikolai simply looked to his mother, a smile coming to his face as he hugged her slightly.

"Thank you mother," he said.

"Please, Nikolai, it is no problem at all," she said. "Now let us go inside. We can begin the introductions there."

And with this, the Inverness family led Nikolai's companions into their house.

* * *

The five clan members ended up staying at the Inverness household for a week. The hospitality was great there, and as they were thankful to find out the Inverness family was as nice as anybody could possibly have been. Nikolai's parents were warm and supportive to everyone, and the entire group had quickly gained the friendship of Nikolai's younger sister Anastasia as well. Quite a few things had happened, their friendships got stronger, and the Inverness house ended up having to deal with one of Evor and Nero's pranks in the middle of the week. Overall, it was a pleasant week, even if the thought of their clan was pervading their minds throughout their stay.

The thought of their clan being held captive was something of a guilty thought when the gropu thought about it. They knew that Marche was in great danger, and yet they were living amongst the rich. Anastasia had gone to great lengths to point out that if Marche were to be thinking right, he would at least be thankful for the fact that they were safe, but that thought held very little assurance for the group. It made a few things a little awkward for the rest of the group whenever they thought about it, but they tried to keep their spirits up nonetheless.

And so, it came as a great relief to the group (and the Inverness family, to a certain extent) when at the end of the week, a messenger had come to the family with news that had to be heard by Nikolai and the clan.

And so, the Inverness family and Nikolai's friends were all seated around in a rather small conference room, with a messenger standing at the foot of a rather long oak table at which were seated everybody that was relevant.

The messenger looked at the Inverness family, the mark of the royal family proudly displayed on his chest as he nodded to everybody present.

"I bring a message from Cid of the Randell house," claimed the messenger. "He says it is of utmost importance that the Inverness family hear about this, as he wants them to be the first of the royal houses of Ivalice to know about a sudden turn of events."

At this, the head of the Inverness household rose an eyebrow. "What happened?" he asked. "Out with it, this must be important if it is taking up affairs of the state."

The messenger nodded. "It is very important," he said. "Cid has asked me to tell the entire Inverness family that as of yesterday, Cid of the Randell house has resigned his position as Judgemaster. Furthermore, the judges now operate seperately from the palace, as per his orders."

At this, the entire room balked, all eyes widening at the news. "He has done what?" asked Anastasia in disbelief.

"Impossible..." added Nikolai's father. "Judgemasters are to defend their prince for life! What could have caused the split?"

"Well, uh..." replied the messenger. "It seems he's had a change of heart concerning that one Marche Raidiju, and has finally had enough of all of these laws. Honestly, madam, I know not why this is either, as it was a very sudden decision..."

Cecille nodded, a little desperately as Nikolai leaned forward in his chair. "What of the status of Marche Raidiju?" he asked. "And what of his clan?"

"Clan Nutsy?" asked the messenger. "Cleared of all charges, of course. They have all been allowed to return to Cyril, and their accomodations have been returned to them. And the bounty on the head of Marche Raidiju has been lifted."

At this, the rest of the clanmembers lit up in jubilation, their gazes now considerably better off. They all knew what this meant, of course. They would return to the clan, and everything would be all right with them. As well, they no longer had to worry too much about the judges attempting to capture them. This much came as excellent news to them.

Nikolai would have jumped up and hugged the messenger, but he showed much more restraint. "Good," he said, smiling. "Is this all you wanted to tell us?"

"Yes, my liege," replied the messenger. "I shall take my leave of you now, if you don't mind."

"Not at all," replied the head of the Inverness house. "Go inform the other royal houses. I am sure they will want to hear this."

"As you suggest, my lord," replied the messenger. And before anybody could say much else, he had left the room.

Anastasia turned to Nikolai with a smile on her face. "So it seems you can return to being with the common people now," she said.

"Are you kidding me?" asked Cecille. "This is great news!"

"It meansss we can go back now..." said Hopper. "Man, I'm going to feel right at home in that room again..."

"I can imagine," replied the head of the Inverness family. "Will you be leaving immediately?"

Nikolai shrugged. "Maybe for one more night," he said. "And then we'll depart for Cyril tomorrow."

"It was nice being here, kupo!" said Nero.

"Yeah, kupo!" added Evor. "This place is pretty sweet, kupo!"

Nikolai's mother chuckled good-naturedly as everybody in the room stood up. "Do know that as long as Nikolai is safe with you, your clan is always welcome in the Inverness house," she said. "It was certainly a pleasure having you here... even with your prank..."

At this, Anastasia could not hold back a chuckle. "You do have to admit, though," she said. "Seeing father covered in dirt was pretty amusing..."

Both parents shot a glare at Nikolai's younger sister. The clan members simply started laughing good-naturedly as they all thought back to the elaborate prank that Nero and Evor had pulled on the head of the Inverness household a few days prior.

* * *

Marche was sitting in his room in the inn, quietly reflecting on what had happened.

It so happened that one of the totemas was right there in the Sprohm prison. He had seen the tree's seeds get sprouted, and he had fought against Babus while destroying every last seed there was in the void. Eventually, he succeeded, and then the aparition that appeared seemed to speak directly to the judgemaster himself, and then he came upon an epiphany that left Babus to be absolutely confused beyond all belief. It was that which had fueled the judges' separation from the palace.

It had also meant freedom for his clan. When he had returned, he had found Amelia had gotten the tatoo on her hand that Ocon, Salsber, and Ingg all shared. It was thus that the human figured the totema had sought her out from beyond its reach, although it was still confusing. But that did not matter all that much, for his clan was safe, and that was all that really mattered.

But there was still the matter of Nikolai and the ones he had taken to the royal library the day he had gotten captured in Muscadet. He worried about them, knowing they had gone onto palace territory and risking a very high chance of capture. He hoped that the Inverness family was kind enough to their son to release them, but the boy could not help but worry about them.

It was such that when he got a knock on his door, he jumped in surprise.

"Come in," he said.

The door opened, and much to his disbelief Nikolai was standing at the door with the four clan members he had taken along with him.

"Nikolai, you're all right!" said the boy, jumping up upon seeing them.

The small group of five entered. "We ended up staying in the Inverness house for the week you guys were in Sprohm," said Cecille as they filed in. "We had heard from the Judgemaster himself before he went to Sprohm..."

Marche gave them a curious glance. "You saw the judgemaster?" he asked.

"Jussst asss we were leaving, too..." said Hopper. "We were ssshocked, but Nikolai wasss able to do sssomething about it."

Nikolai nodded. "Speaking of which, I think we might have our answer as to what this book is."

"Really?" asked the blonde boy, raising his eyebrow tentatively. "What is it?"

Looking to each other, the group settled somewhere in the room. Making sure the door was closed, the clanmembers proceeded to tell Marche what they had found.


	26. Informant

All right. So, last time, we got to go to where the guys are in terms of happenings. Their time at the Inverness house will definitely be in a few prompts, hence why I didn't exactly show anything. We'll have plenty of material to work with there, don't worry.

Meanwhile, I think it's time we went on with the story, right? Let's go across two different missions!

* * *

Informant

Marche was a little annoyed. He had just gotten out of the Sprohm jail, where he was kept alone and the guards did who knew what to his clan. After that, he had a tough time attempting to get the clan unshaken out of whatever had happened to them. Nikolai and the people he had taken with him were of course safe, so Marche was relieved about that. And so, when he took a job and brought his clan along, he had expected things to go a little smoother.

Looking now at the group of six that his clan was in the middle of an engagement with, the human boy realized just how wrong that assertion was.

He now looked to Sesily, one of the new vieras in the clan as she stepped forward, readying a rapier as she pulled her soft turquoise veil to her face. As her hands darted in elegance and she cast a spell, he looked over to the group of six. They were not supposed to be there.

_"Hey, it's that kid!"_

_"The palace still wants him, right?"_

_"They'll go to any costs. Now, let's nab him and his friends!_"

Just before the fight... Who was he kidding? That's what he speculated they would have said about him before they found him. Speculation did no good then, but still, they did not just wander onto the stretch of desert they were in. They sort of just came up to Marche and his band of six and shouted a few things. Marche had only had a small amount of confusion, but what was even more confusing was that they knew he was here in the first place.

And the boy realized that this was unnerving to him.

With a sound of wind depositing a heavy contingent of dust, Sesily cast the spell, hitting the bangaa fighter and causing him to become stuck in time. Noticing this, the boy nodded and drew his blade. A moogle on the other side moved a little it and attempted to toss a dagger at the elementalist, but she dodged that pretty easily.

It was then his turn, and with his blade he rushed towards the stopped bangaa. With one swing, it went down, and he felt a rush as he earned yet another judge point.

And then, as he watched everybody else's turns unfold before him, he decided that someone had to have told him about it. But who was the big question, of course.

He would have to figure that out. In the meantime, he was stuck in a battle that his clan was winning, and so he brought his head back in the game as a moogle thief quickly came up to him, looking ready to steal some money in the middle of combat.

* * *

After the fight, Sesily was standing by Marche as they investigated the desert area around them. Juris, Nusratt, Smyth, and Ocon were all there as well, watching the human boy look around the area. Marche insisted upon looking around the area after the engagement, but for some reason he was just looking around uncertainly.

"I'm telling you, those assholes had to have known we were comin'," reiterated Nusratt for the tenth time. "What, you think some group of big fuckin' hotshots are gonna give us shit just because we're fuckin' here?"

"Language, Nusratt!" exclaimed Sesily. "We get your point. But still, I think we should let him search."

"There's nothin' to fuckin' search here!" retorted the moogle angrily.

"Nusratt does have a point," said Juris in defense of the moogle that was perched on his shoulder. "They did specifically call Marche out. And they did act as if they were expecting us, so I have reason to side with him."

"Thank you, Juris," replied Nusratt, his frown lessening a little bit. "It's good to know that at least _one_ of you dumb shits is on my side."

Smyth simply shrugged. "Persssonally, I don't really care," he said. "But I'm not sssure they jussst attacked usss. They're like sssome of the weaker guysss back in the ring. They try to ssscare you..."

The viera simply shrugged. "If nothing else, do it for his peace of mind," she insisted.

By this point, Marche had wandered quite a ways from his group. In many ways, though, the entire group could see the frown on his face from where he stood, shaking his head with his hands clenched into fists. Whatever the implications of this were, it weighed heavily on his mind, and it showed in how he moved, his steps deliberate but a little less certain than they usually were. The other clan members glanced at each other, and then back to the human as he trudged a little further from the group.

Nusratt was clearly not amused. "Peace of mind my ass," he said venomously. "I just wanna get the fuck out of this goddamn place. It's too fuckin' hot!"

"Now that isss a sssentiment I can agree with," replied Ocon as he wiped some sweat off of his forehead. "But I can wait for a few more minutesss. He doesss look perturbed."

Smyth cast a glance at Nusratt before speaking. "I don't know," he said. "I would think that he'd jussst let usss run around and do whatever while he thinksss about it... But I don't get why he'sss doing all thisss..."

"Well, we don't want to get ambushed again, do we?" asked Sesily, shaking her head.

This effectively shut everybody up. Miraculously, this included Nusratt for a reason that nobody could really put their finger on.

"I... When you put it like that..."

"Why the fuck didn't ya just say it like that?" asked Nusratt, interrupting Juris' statement. "Woulda saved us a hell of a lot of bitching."

Sesily shrugged as Marche approached. "You tell me."

The boy turned to his clan and nodded, his lips curved downard as he looked at his friends.

"The next time I go somewhere where there's a find, I'm bringing you guys with me," he said, crossing his arms in front of him. "We're stopping by Cadoan before we go back to Cyril. I need to talk to Ezel, see if he can figure out some of who might have ratted me out..."

The human boy simply walked off in the direction of the town of Cadoan. His clan stayed behind, shrugging as they slowly followed.

"I get the ssslightessst sssussspicion that won't be nesssesssary," said Ocon breifly, claws clasped together.

And that was all that was said as the group moved on through the desert back to civilization.

* * *

Ezel was no help, unfortunately. Being one of the big antilaw ears in Ivalice did not always have its advantages.

And so, when another job was posted at the inn, Marche took it anxiously, bringing the same group as before with him. Nusratt was now on top of Juris' head as the clan moved about in yet another desert, this time to investigate a series of pickpocketing incidents. Nusratt had gone to no end to voice his displeasure, but once Juris had gotten him settled down the trip to the desert went rather quietly. Smyth was vigilant, keeping an eye out for any other people that might be there and with one hand constantly on his blade.

Finally, the group stopped, and they all looked ahead of them. There was a lone figure standing in the sands, looking around solemnly. He stood rather proudly, reddish hair beaming in the sunlight as his figure was seen. The group was about to call out to the figure when they all suddenly noticed that Marche seemed a little taken aback by this figure. He glanced at the group briefly.

"Doned...?" he muttered to himself, scarcely audible to the figure from a distance but audible to the rest of his clan.

At this, the small group gave him confused glances.

"Doned?" asked Sesily softly. "Who's that?"

"My brother..."

And as if on cue, the figure turned around, revealing a rather youthful face to Marche and the other five people he had brought with him to the desert. Upon seeing this, Marche's stance seemed to become so much more confident. They could almost feel the smile the human was giving to the figure from a distance.

"Doned!" cried out an obviously overjoyed Marche. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

The figure looked at Marche.

Instead of taking a step towards the blonde, however, he stepped back. This action seemed to puzzle the entire clan, but they had no time to dwell on it before the one known as Doned ran in the other direction for a few paces. There, he went to some rocks that were some distance away. He seemed to whisper into them, as if there were people hiding behind them waiting for an opportunity to strike.

Immediately, they all assumed the worst, for the last ambush came out of a spot that was easy to hide behind. It was such that when a group of bangaas stepped out of the rocks, they all knew they were in trouble.

"Oh, mother_fucker_!"

Nusratt's reaction summed up their feelings so well nobody really felt like yelling at him about the language. The only one who was not mirroring this sentiment was Marche, who was profoundly confused by what he had just witnessed.

"W... what...?" he asked slowly, not believing what he had just seen happen.

Smyth was the first to draw his weapon. "We'll think about that later!" he said. "For now, we've gotta take care of them!"

And as much as Marche hated to admit it, he knew the former gladiator was right. And so, the boy reluctantly drew his blade as the bangaas called an engagement in the Gotor desert.

* * *

"I told you that thisss could only end badly..."

"It'sss bad enough hisss own brother might be involved in what isss happening..."

"I've seen people screw me over. But that shit about maybe gettin' screwed by your own brother? Shit, man... I don't know what the fuck I can say to that."

Sesily shook her head. "It's so... unfortunate."

The clan was walking away from the engagement. They had won, and before the judge had disappeared Marche had attempted to ask the bangaas what Doned was doing there. They would not talk, however, and so the blonde was walking with his head facing down looking at the sands beneath his feet. The entire group seemed to know what was wrong with Marche, and they made no attempt to hide it.

Here, though, it was getting a bit much. "It sucks," he muttered simply. "Here I was looking for him all this time... and to think he might be trying to work against me here..."

Juris shrugged. "There is a chance you can convince him otherwise," replied Juris. "See that perhaps things are better the way his old life was."

"That's true, I guess..." said Marche. "But there's a problem with that... Doned couldn't walk back where I'm from."

This was effective enough at stopping the clan where they were, all of them coming to a direct halt. All eyes went to the human boy nervously.

"Wait, what does that mean?" asked Sesily, scratching her head. "If he can't walk there, why can't he walk here?"

"It is complicated," replied the nu mou softly as he gripped his mace lightly. "Just know that Marche's history is... complex..."

The viera decided it was best not to question that, and after a look from Ocon that convinced her not to inquire any further, she complied. Nusratt was not content with this, however, and he made his displeasure clear.

"I don't give a fuck whether he can walk or not," he said. "I'm guessing it means that bad shit's gonna go down, right?"

"Nusratt! Language!" reprimanded Sesily.

The moogle shot a glance at Sesily. "Hey, bitch, what about, 'shut the fuck up'?" he asked. "You know I'm right."

Ocon glared at the two. "Both of you, ssstop thisss!" he said. "Nusssratt hasss a point!"

"If he couldn't walk anywaysss, then he probably would have pulled sssomething like thisss," added Smyth.

It was then Ocon's turn to be angry at someone. "Sssmyth!" proclaimed the priest.

"You know it'sss true," pointed out the gladiator.

The priest gestured to Marche. "Not in front of him!" he stated.

"Why not?" asked Smyth. "He knowsss it already. Just sssayin' what'sss going on isssn't gonna hurt him."

"Fucker's got a point," added Nusratt. "I know that if I couldn't fuckin' walk, I'd kill myself just to use my fuckin' legs again."

"Language!" shouted Sesily.

And from there, the four clan members began shouting at each other angrily, all of them picking sides in a debate that seemingly meandered throughout the next few minutes. It was a shouting match that had Juris groan in disapproval. Marche stood distantly from it all, the bickering between the four going on for quite some time and getting louder ever so slowly.

It was so loud that eventually, Juris had enough. Raising his mace, a water bubble suddenly covered everyone that was arguing, surprising the entire group as they were suspended in the liquid for a brief period of time. After a few seconds, Juris lowered his mace, the water dissipating and causing everyone to fall to the ground.

"Oh, great..." hissed Smyth. "Thanksss for--"

"Will you quiet down?" roared Juris, intimidating the gladiator into shutting his mouth. "This is not worth quarelling over! Now you will all stop yelling at each other or so help me whatever gods you believe in I will drown you all with magic! Is this understood?"

All eyes turned to each other nervously. Nusratt shrugged.

"I don't fuckin' get it," he said. "All I'm sayin' is that Marche should've seen this shit coming."

"Nusratt!" shouted Sesily, finally unable to muster up the courage to reprimand him on his swearing.

Marche shook his head, sitting down on the desert sand. "No, he's right," he said. It was at the glisten running down his cheek that shushed everybody up. "I... I should've figured he'd pull something like that. He always wanted to walk. He was always too sick to do it. He would have given anything to walk. And he'd do anything to hang on to the ability to do just that..."

The boy sniffled softly, another tear beginning to fall past. "But Doned..." he said simply. "He was the one person I felt I could trust in the world..." He shook his head, making no attempt to dry his tears as he hugged his knees to his body. "We had a really close bond. We were more than just brothers. We were best friends. We looked to each other for comfort. We cared about each other so much... We were so close..."

He wiped a tear from his cheek. "Why?" he asked softly. "Why would he...?"

The boy was unable to finish his sentence. Softly, he choked on his words, and the leader of Clan Nutsy was reduced to tears. He barely dared to cover his face, just bringing a hand to his chin as the tears slowly came out of his eyes.

This sight left the group dumbfounded for a few seconds. They knew that their leader wasn't perfect, but they would not have expected him to break down into tears at all. Pity was the first emotion in their minds, even Nusratt. But they were powerless to do anything about it.

Smyth was the first one to act. He knelt by the leader, setting a calloused hand on the Marche's shoulder. The boy looked up, his eyes shining in sadess as he looked to the black-scaled bangaa. Slowly, the gladiator nodded, draping his arm across the boy's shoulders. The human used this to turn to the bangaa and cry into his shoulder. Ocon seemed to nod in approval as he saw this, and the boy slowly cried. Nusratt had the good sense to shut up as slowly, the group knelt down next to Marche. With solemn looks on their faces, they all allowed Marche to vent his frustrated tears on the former gladiator's shoulders. And nothing more was said as the boy cried, feeling the comforting air around him.


	27. Twists

Okay, so last time Marche got hugged by Smyth. Poor guy. He really should've seen this coming.

But, still, it must be pretty hard to take. Never mind Mewt and Ritz; Marche had known both of them for exactly one day before they came to Ivalice. Of course, Marche likely has a much stronger bond with Doned. I attest to it myself, having a mentally disabled brother. You tend to form stronger bonds with ill relatives a lot more than you would think you would. That's one of the beauties of life right there.

So yeah, let's get the plot going!

* * *

Twists

Marche had brought Juris, Ocon, Amelia, Salsber, and Orsiny along for the mission. It seemed like prime material for a totema fight, he was sure of it.

The group trudged through a desert. Supposedly, the sands there were supposed to bark. All around them, however, there was dead silence. Marche knew it was a totema fight waiting to happen. There was simply no other explanation for it.

The rest of the clan seemed to know it too as they shuffled along. They were silent, waiting for the distortion in reality to appear any second. But so far, they had been unsuccessful, and the silence was beginning to get to them.

Of course, they did not need to venture too far, as in the dead silence they came to the heaviest concentration of the barking sands. Where there would normally be much more sound, it was as silent as ever.

Finally, Ocon spoke. "Thisss isss quite wondrousss..." he said. "It'sss ssso sssilent..."

"You've been here before?" asked Amelia.

"Onssse," replied the priest. "When I wasss little..."

"I see..." said Juris, rubbing his chin. "I do wonder when the shift in reality will occur..."

As if on cue, the distortion appeared in front of them, turning the world into its familiar dark shades. The group couldn't help but jump at this, but it was due to nothing more than being startled by that point.

"There it is," said Marche. "The last totema we need to kill..."

"And then everything will return to normal," said Orsiny. "Hm..."

They had very little time to say much else, for then they felt themselves get teleported away when the distortion stretched out.

* * *

When they came to, they found themselves in the void again. The familiar swirl of colors overcame all of them, the group of them looking around. Surprisingly, though, they could not see a crystal yet.

"Huh," said Marche as he stood up. "Looks like the crystal isn't ready to reveal itself yet..."

"That's strange..." observed Orsiny. "I'd think it would be ready to show itself right now..."

"So would I," added Amelia.

Juris looks around, feeling a little odd. "I do think something is wrong with this place," he said. "I feel an unusually large amount of magic at work here..."

"Huh," said Orsiny, glancing around.

"Keep your eyesss open, then," said Ocon, holding his staff out. "You never know what we can find here..."

And suddenly, a form began to teleport in front of them. It was the form of a rather slender youth, blonde hair falling out of a majestic red hat. The group look at this new face in shock, looking at the rather large blade he held and coming to the conclusion that only somene close to the prince could have something like that.

"So, I am in the presence of Marche Raidiju, I see..." said the figure, his voice deep and a little threatening.

The others recoiled back. "Who are you?" asked Amelia. "And what do you want with us?"

"I am simply known as Llednar," he replied. "And I cannot allow you to continue any further. My prince's sanity depends on it."

The group let out a collective groan at this revelation. Marche at this point was sick of all of it, and so he simply shook his head, his palm making contact with his face. This sight confused the intruder a little bit, and he gave them all curious glances.

"Need I ask what the groan is all about?" he asked.

"No." The concise reply came from everybody in the clan.

"We're just getting a little tired of hearing about 'the prince's welfare' by this point," replied Orsiny. "God, it was used so many times in that dungeon it was sickening..."

Llednar simply shook his head. "No matter," he said. "The truth of the matter is, I'm far more capable than the judges ever will be."

Marche shook his head, drawing his sword. "Yeah, well, we'll see about that!" he said daringly to the intruder. "We've overcome every obstacle we've encountered so far!"

The court servant shook his head. "Such a foolish decision," he said. "Nevertheless, I do have to admire your courage in the matter."

With this, the other members of the clan drew their weapons, and with anger on their faces they charged at each other.

Their blades clashed, but Marche was almost instantly thrown back. This came as quite a shock to the boy, but Orsiny sensed his distress. He fired a spell at Llednar that seemed to do almost nothing to the prince's servant. Stunned, he could only watch as Marche rolled out of the way of a slash. Juris and Ocon were both quick to pitch in with spells, Amelia readying a spell as well. When all of the spells, hit, however, Llednar was jumping around the place, with Marche usually being quickly reduced to dodging whenever he had landed a hit.

This went on for some time, Marche never managing to even attempt to hit Llednar and with the others vainly casting spells. Salsber quickly worked at a red spring, gazing down on it as he held the coin in his paw. Hoping to make everybody faster, he closed his eyes and breathed. But when he flipped the coin, it landed on the moon. Thus, it gave Llednar the speed boost instead. When the group saw that suddenly Llednar seemed to move in a blur, they all paled.

"Oh, dear..." said Ocon.

"Brace yourselves!"

That was all Marche was able to say before he felt himself attempting to block a whole flurry of blows from Llednar. But he was never able to block it, and after nearly four super-sped hits Marche was unable to block anything more, and he felt something slash into him, pain erupting in his sides. Ocon and Amelia were as fast as they could be, and they worked at casting spells that could at least keep Marche alive. Juris and Orsiny provided their help as well, but as they healed Marche they began to tire out quickly.

And then the Haste effect wore off on Llednar, and he raised his sword at Marche, who was half beaten by that point. The mages were unable to do anything for him, thanks to the fact that they were all pushing the point of exhaustion.

Llednar smirked, brusing some hair out of his face.

"That was far too easy," he commented. "Shame I'll have to kill you now."

And with this, he raised his weapon.

"Don't you forget it's against the law, Llednar!"

This new voice came from nowhere, and the entire clan turned to look at a judge riding a chocobo.

"Judgemaster Cid?" asked Orsiny.

The judgemaster didn't comment, instead holding a card over his head. Llednar saw this, and was obviously very displeased with it as his facial expression told quite readily. He grimaced, and gave a glance back to Marche as he shook his head.

"Luck is on your side today," said Llednar. "Next time, I will not be so merciful. Be thankful the judgemaster left the judges, _boy_."

And with this, Llednar simply vanished. There was no real term for it; he disappeared in black mist, and the group was left looking after him with confused looks on their faces.

The judgemaster turned to the group and nodded to them. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Ocon was the first to reply. "I think ssso..." he said, panting. "We're tired, though..."

Marche slowly stood up, still feeling the sting of the wounds he had gotten from Llednar's blade as he looked to the judgemaster.

"I think I'll live," he said, shaking his head softly. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," replied Cid, glancing at the rest of the group. Amelia sat on the ground by Juris, both of them catching their breath as Orsiny leaned against his saber. Salsber looked a little paranoid, but the judgemaster could not blame him, as he had seen what had happened with them. He shook his head and nodded.

"We should rest before we confront the totema," he said. "We're better off waiting."

The others nodded, to tired to disagree. Marche simply looked at the judgemaster grimly, thinking about what had happened with Llednar and how it would affect Marche's attempts to return to the real world.

* * *

After some time, the group finally found the strength to continue on. Cid accompanied them, saying that since this totema was likely the most dangerous they might want to have someone on hand to save them should things turn out for the worse. And so they moved forward. A crystal finally presented itself, a crystal just like the others. It shone in the void nervously, and the group looked at it.

"The last totema..." said Orsiny, gazing at the object in all of its glory.

"So... we just defeat this one and everything will be back to normal, kupo?" asked Salsber.

Marche nodded at this. "I hope so," he said. "I'm so close, and yet... I'm still feeling a little apprehensive."

At this, the group gave Marche a glance. "Well, you have always wanted to go home," said Juris, walking up to the boy. "And we only have to defeat one creature."

"Yeah," said Amelia. "How hard could it be?"

Here, a booming voice answered Amelia's question, the sound reverberating throughout the void.

"Unfortunately, it is not that simple."

Something materialized in front of them then. They saw a very tall person, wrapped from head to toe in armor. A giant staff with a strange jewel nobody had ever seen before rested on its back, and its helmet tapered off to the ground on the sides. It was a very large and very daunting image, and it was one that gave no comfort at all to the group. Its voice, however, was gentle, almost like that of a mother. It stood over them.

"And... who are you?" asked Orsiny upon seeing this.

"I am Mateus, the human totema, and the last key to your return home," said the imposing figure. "But unfortunately, there is still work to be done, even after I am defeated."

At this, the entire group gawked at this. "You mean... We have to do something else?" asked Amelia.

Instantly, Marche was asking questions. "What do we have to do?" he asked. "Where do we need to go? Who do we need to see?"

"Patience, young one," replied Mateus grandly. "This hybrid world will remain in place, so long as there are people that want it. And at the moment, there are people that want this world that are originally from yours. They must be convinced to return home before the act may be done."

The other members of the group smiled. "Eckssselent!" said Ocon. "Then all we have to do is convinssse Mewt, Ritsss, and Doned to go back, and we can return!"

At this, Marche shook his head, and it was then that they noticed he seemed a little depressed. "And... and myself," he said.

The entire group reared their heads at this, very confused. "What, kupo?" asked Salsber. "But you're the one who's always wanted to go home, kupo! You're telling us you want to stay here now that you're almost there, kupo? Come on, kupo!"

Marche shook his head. "When I go home, everything will be back to normal," he said. "And I kind of want that... And I wanted that when I first got here and saw how out of the ordinary everything was. It's still kind of surreal when I think of how in this world people can use magic."

Here, he turned to the clanmembers he had brought with him. "But then... I met all of you. I met Clan Nutsy. And... you've become sort of like a family to me... A big, big family that always looks after itself without fail. It's... When I go home, I'll never see any of you again. And that's a little disturbing. That... I don't know how I'd get used to a world without you guys in it. It's so hard to imagine..."

Orsiny was the one who approached the boy then. He silently placed a hand on Marche's shoulder. The blonde gazed up at the mage, who nodded at him as he took his hat off. He let his short brown hair fall by his ears before speaking.

"Well... I think I speak for everyone when I say that we... we're going to feel the same way," replied Orsiny. "You've become something of a friend to us all. A leader. A brother. Whatever you want to call yourself. And you know what? We're going to miss you too. But you'll always have your memories of us. That will never change. And that will mean that... well, we'll never be too far away, even with a dimension separating us for the rest of time. And we'll remember you."

Marche listened to Orsiny intently, and when there was silence, Orsiny noticed the tear running down Marche's cheek. The boy was strong, however, and so he wiped his own tear and nodded.

"Thanks," he said. "And besides... I think I'll have more time to say goodbye to the rest of the clan."

Orsiny nodded, smiling at him. "That's the spirit, Marche!" he said. "Now all that's left is to fight your way back home!"

The boy nodded. "And that's what I'm going to do!" he said.

"Very well, then," said Mateus, which had seemed to move around a bit to bring the staff in front of it. "Do not believe I will simply let you destroy the crystal."

"I'd rather you wouldn't," was Marche's reply. "I'm ready to return home!"

"Then have at me," replied Mateus, going into a battle stance.

"Gladly."

With this, the boy rushed Mateus, jumping up to land a slash. This was unsuccessful, as Mateus blocked the blow with its rod. Salsber had leapt at it too, but he very narrowly dodged the rod as Mateus swung it at the moogle. This gave the spellcasters a small opportunity to cast spells at Mateus. Amelia and Ocon saw it fit to cast a few protection spells over some of the group, while Orsiny and Juris both conjured the most powerful offensive spells they could.

Neither seemed to do all that much damage, but it distracted Mateus a little bit as it absorbed the damage. Marche was able to jump in and slash Mateus once, and he seemed to smile.

The totema was not to be phased, however, and so Mateus raised its staff high in the air. From this, a great field of power radiated out, and suddenly thousands of stars were visible all over the battlefield. The entire clan looked rather panickedly at this, and they all pointed at the stars.

"Be careful!" shouted Orsiny.

This warning came pretty quickly, for then the stars began whirling around. The clan members had barely managed to dodge each individual star as they soared in the battlefield above, but ultimately they managed to survive it. How they did was a mystery to everyone that was there, as the stars had moved so quickly it would have been impossible to dodge them without some kind of sheer luck on their side.

But this did not deter them, as Orsiny quickly launched a spell at Mateus. Salsber moved to jump in again, but Mateus swatted the moogle away with a single swing of its rod. The moogle recovered in time to land on its feet, and Mateus skillfully blocked another slash from Marche.

The fighting went on for quite some time. Marche and Salsber both functioned as fighters the gadgeteer not daring to open another gadget of his lest he accidentally incur what happened with Llednar earlier. The spellcasters were doing their best to cast spells, with Amelia sometimes jumping in to help with the melee fighting when she ran out of magic. After a while, the group almost seemed to move as one, and there was a very near set pattern that they noticed with their combat.

And it slowly brought Mateus down. The totema's movements began to get more sluggish, and Marche was able to get in a few more slashes on the totema. And Mateus only began to go down as Salsber and Amelia were finally able to get in some melee blows on it. Eventually, Mateus was weakening more and more gradually.

Marche, seeing this, readied his blade one last time as Mateus got down on one knee. The totema gave Marche an understanding glance, and Marche felt the effects behind the helmet that Mateus wore. The group seemed to pause in this, waiting on Marche to act.

After looking at Mateus, Marche nodded his head simply.

And then, he charged at Mateus. In a few seconds, the blade had punctured the armor, and then Marche held the blade where he had stabbed Mateus.

And slowly, the totema disippated in the air as Marche stood there with a small frown on his face. He looked around the void, hoping for something good to happen as they all looked around.

The boy suddenly felt a great spike of power in him, and then he felt the tatoo that had inscribed itself on everybody else's hands get inscribed in his too. He looked at his hand, and saw the tatoo.

"_Take my power..._" he heard Mateus' voice say. "_You will need it for the battles to come. Use it wisely..._"

And that was the last Marche heard of Mateus. He briefly saw an image of Mewt fluttering above him as he spoke about something, but he was not exactly paying attention as he smiled softly.

He was one step closer to going home. His clan members felt the same way he did about his own departure. And he knew what he had to do to return home.

And so, he smiled as he felt the void disappear around him for the last time, the colors fading away and being replaced by the image of the Gotor Sands around him.

* * *

The clan was standing on the Gotor Sands again. Marche admired his tatoo, showing it to the rest of them. He had found out that Orsiny had also gotten a similar tatoo on his hand, and the clan seemed to agree on one thing. They had defeated every totema, and they had all offered them their aid.

Amelia was the first to hold her hand out. "So I guess this makes us some kind of chosen ones?"

"Maybe," said Ocon. "Maybe not. Either way, we have been blesssed on thisss day."

Juris rose an eyebrow. "I thought you viewed the totema as a curse," he said.

"That hasss changed," replied the priest. "I fear Sssmyth is beginning to rub off on me a little bit..."

Amelia chuckled softly as Marche rolled his eyes. "But, we're going to help convince the prince until the end, right, kupo?" asked Salsber.

"Yep," replied Marche. "And we'll have our time to say goodbyes. I hope."

"Trust me, so do I," said Orsiny. "We'll miss you a lot, Marche."

The boy nodded, and then the group turned to the Judgemaster.

"You should find something that you can do about Llednar," said Marche, crossing his arms. "Hopefully, we won't have to wait on you to save us again next time we encounter him."

"I'll work on it," replied the judgemaster, bowing. "I'm doing what I think is best for Mewt. Thank you, Marche. I hope to help you in any way I can."

The rest of the clan nodded. "Just don't get yourself killed," said Amelia. "Or in bad favors with the palace."

Cid shook his head. "I am already in bad favors with the palace," he replies. "But I will be careful. You should be cautious as well."

"Thank you, Judgemassster," replied Ocon.

And the two of them went their separate ways, renewed with the energy to bring Marche home again.


End file.
